WHO    DID    IT? 

A  SCHOOLBOY'S  TALE. 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 


HAIR-BREADTH   ESCAPES ;    or,  the  Adventures  of  Three 
Boys  in  South  Africa.    With  8  Illustrations.     Cloth  elegant,  55. 

"An  exciting  record  of  sport." — Graphic. 

"The  tone  of  the  whole  book  's  so  good  and  high  that  a  parent  could 
do  nothing  but  good  by  putting  it  into  a  boy's  hand." — Literary 
Churchman. 

"Will  delight  the  heart  of  all  English  boys." — Standard. 

"  The  book  bristles  with  adventures,  with  perilous  encounters,  with 
marvellous  escapes." — J'ail  Mall  Gazette. 

COLLEGE  DAYS   AT  OXFORD.        With   6   Illustrations  by 
J.  Lawson.    Cloth  elegant,  35.  6d. 

"Tbe  characters  are  sketched  with  some  spirit,  and  the  writing  is 
pleasant.  .  .  .  May  on  the  whole  be  congratulated  upon  his  success" 
— Saturday  Review. 

"The  book  is  thoroughly  hea'thy.  and  the  incidents  varied  and  well 
described.  The  characters  are  real  Oxford  men,  and  not  mouthpieces 
for  giving  out  social  or  educational  theories." — Graphic. 

"  Interesting  and  readable.  ...  A  capital  picture  of  University 
life  " — School  Board  Chronicle. 


GRIFFITH  &  FARRAN  : 

WEST  CORNER   ST  PAUL'S  CHURCHYARD,    LONDON. 

E.    P.    DUTTOX   AND   Co.,    NEW  YoKK. 


WHO     DID     IT? 

OR, 

HOLM  WOOD     PRIORY. 

a  Scboolbo^s  Gale. 


BY 


THE  REV.  H.  C./APAMS,  M.A., 

VICAR  OF  OLD  SHOREHAM. 

AUTHOR  OF  "COLLEGE  DAYS  AT  OXFORD."  "HAIR-BREADTH  ESCAPES," 
"SCHOOLBOY  HONOUR,"  ETC. 


"Which  of  you  have  done  this?" — MACBETH. 


ILLUSTRATED   BY  A.    W.   COOPER. 


NEW  YORK:    E.  P.  DUTTON   &  CO. 

GRIFFITH  &  FARRAN,  ST  PAUL'S  CHURCHYARD,  LONDON. 


(The  Rights  of  Translation  and  of  Reproduction  are  reserved^) 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  WAGER,    .  .  .  .  .  .  .  I 

CHAPTER  II. 
THE  GIPSY  GIRL,          .  .  .  .....  17 

CHAPTER   III. 
AN  ADVENTURE,  .  .  .  .  .  •.. .  ,          32 

CHAPTER  IV. 

ANOTHER  NARROW  ESCAPE,  ...  48 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  PISTOL  MATCH,  ...  .  .  .  .63 

CHAPTER  VI. 

A  RETROSPECT.  ......  80 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  LION,        .......  97 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
GEORGE'S  TROUBLES,  .  .          .         •.          .        112 


vi  Contents. 

CHAPTER  IX. 
GEORGK'S  LETTER,     ....  129 

CHAPTER  X. 
A  SMUGGLER'S  DEN,  .....  145 

CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  HAWLEY  EXHIBITION,    .....  l6l 

CHAPTER  XII. 

A  STRANGE  DISCOVERY,          .  .  .  .  .177 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  PISTOL,    .....  193 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  BATHING  LESSON,   ......  209 

CHAPTER  XV. 

A  SIGHT  OK  THE  REGISTER,  ...  225 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  REGATTA,  .  ,,  „ 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  F(X)TBALL  MATCH,  ....  -,-j 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  MEET  AT  DARLASTON,    ...  2_- 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

WITH KkNE  CAVES,       .  ,o 


Contents.  vjj 

CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  GIPSY'S  HOLLOW, 

3     J 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

AYE,  WHO  INDEED  !    . 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

A  STRANGE  RESOLVE,  „,„ 

j3° 
CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  GREEN  HOLM,     ... 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  ANSWER  AT  LAST,  ... 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

TAGE 

••  \  K'II  I.KTTER  MIND  WHAT  YE'RE  AT,"  —  Frontispiece,    .  72 

"A  VERY  INTERESTING  TABLEAU  WAS  NOW  PRESENTED,"  56 

"THE  BRUTE  RENEWED  HIS  EFFORTS  WITH   INCREASED 

FURY,"   .......  105 


AT  THAT  BOAT,"       .                                ...  152 

"THF.  REASON  IS  PLAIN  ENOUGH,  SIR,"     .               .               .  188 

"I.K.HTLY     AND     WITHOUT     APPARENT      EFFORT     THE 

HOLMWOOD  CHAMPION  GLIDED  ALONG,"         .               .  254 

"  JACK  RAGGETT  RAN  BACK,  HALLOOING  TO  O'TOOLE,"    .  311 

••(  Kl  -MNC.HAM    COULD  SEE   HIM   STRUGGLING   IN   THE 

-....  356 


WHO    DID    IT? 


CHAPTER    I. 


THE   WAGER. 


"  DULL  work  this  !"  exclaimed  Jerry  Taunton,  a  lad  of  seven- 
teen or  so,  whose  naturally  merry  face  wore,  for  the  nonce,  a 
most  lugubrious  aspect.  "  I  wish  the  weather  would  at  all 
events  make  up  its  mind,  whether  it  meant  to  be  wet  or 
dry!" 

"  It  has  made  up  its  mind,"  growled  Rawes,  a  heavy  loutish- 
looking  lad  of  near  about  the  same  age.  "  It  has  made  up  its 
mind  to  be  wet  all  the  afternoon,  and  to  be  nothing  else.  It 
is  always  wet  on  a  half  holiday  now.  I  think  I  never  saw  a 
place  look  more  beastly  than  this  playground  does  on  a  rainy 
day ! "  And  as  he  spoke,  he  glanced  sullenly  round  him  at 
the  grimy  discoloured  bricks  of  the  playground  wall  of  Holm- 
wood  Priory,  as  Dr  Thornton's  school  was  called,  and  the 
soaking  gravel  of  the  playground  itself,  in  which  large  puddles 
were  forming.  Nor  was  the  prospect  much  relieved  by  the 

A 


2  Whodidtt? 

back-ground  of  sepia  clouds  and  mist,  which  was  all  that  was 
visible  in  the  distance  beyond. 

"  Wet  all  the  afternoon  !  How  do  ye  know  that.  Johnny 
Rawes  ?  "  cried  one  of  his  companions,  whose  rich  brogue  at 
once  declared  him  to  be  a  native  of  the  Emerald  Isle. 

"  How  do  I  know  it,  Maurice  ?  "  returned  Rawes.  "  Why, 
by  using  my  own  eyes,  I  suppose." 

"  Your  own  eyes  !  Haven't  I  known  afternoons  which  were 
nothing  but  clouds  and  wet,  and  yet  turned  out  sunshiny  after 
all  ?  And  ain't  my  eyes  as  good  as  yours  any  day  in  the 
week?" 

"  They  must  have  been  afternoons  in  Ireland,  Maurice," 
observed  Jerry  Taunton. 

"  In  Ireland  !  to  be  sure  they  were  !  Where  else  would 
they  be?" 

"  I  can't  say,  I  am  sure,"  responded  Taunton.  "  In  Eng- 
land, you  know,  when  an  afternoon  is  nothing  but  clouds  and 
wet,  the  sun,  as  a  rule,  doesn't  come  out  at  all !  " 

"  I  judge  ye've  never  been  in  Ireland,  Jerry,"  responded 
O'Toole ;  "  and  how  would  ye  know  what  the  weather  is  like 
there  ?  I  tell  ye  I've  seen  the  whole  of  Killarney  covered  with 
rain  and  fog,  as  thick  as  a  blanket,  and  in  half  an  hour  may- 
be it  would  be  all  bright  and  sunshiny.  More  by  token,  there 
is  the  blessed  sun  himself  coming  out  this  very  minute  to 
prove  the  truth  of  what  I  say!"  He  pointed  as  he  spoke 
to  a  feeble  glimmer  among  the  watery  clouds,  which,  to 
use  a  favourite  schoolboy  phrase,  was  just  enough  to  swear 
by.  "  There  he  is,  and  good  luck  to  him,"  said  O'Toole. 

"  That  may  be  the  blessed  sun  for  all  I  know,"  said  Taunton, 
"  though  what  there  is  to  make  him  blessed,  is  more  than  I 


The  Wager.  3 

can  see.  Anyhow,  he  is  not  going  to  bless  us  with  his  com- 
pany just  at  present.  Hadn't  we  better  go  into  the  house, 
Graves  ?  "  he  proceeded,  turning  to  one  of  his  schoolfellows, 
a  tall,  powerfully  built  youth,  of  rather  striking  appearance, 
and  whose  face  would  have  been  handsome  and  pleasing,  but 
for  its  air  of  sullen  hauteur.  "  Hadn't  we  better  go  in  and  • 
try  whether  we  can't  amuse  ourselves  with  something  ?  Any- 
thing is  better  than  hanging  about  here,  staring  at  the  rain. 
There  are  the  foils — " 

"We've  enough  of  them  when  Laniski  is  here,"  observed 
Dilke,  a  boy  of  the  same  age. 

"  And,  moreover,  it  isn't  pleasant  keeping  your  head  in  those 
masks,  like  a  bird  in  a  cage,"  observed  Payne. 

"And  it  isn't  pleasant  fighting  without  them,"  added 
O'Toole,  "  particularly  when  the  button  happens  to  be  off  the 
foil.  Wasn't  my  cousin  Larry  Sullivan — wasn't  he  run  through 
both  cheeks  like  a  lark  on  a  spit,  when  he  was  fencing  one 
day,  and  had  to  have  the  holes  patched  up.  But  there  are 
the  gloves —  " 

"The  gloves  are  rather^ worse  than  the  foils;"  said  Rawes. 

"  Ah,  ye're  thinking  of  the  facer  Temple  gave  ye  yester- 
day," remarked  O'Toole.  "Ye  shouldn't  have  challenged 
him,  my  boy.  I  judge  he's  too  much  for  ye.  '  Impar  con- 
gressus  Achilla}  as  Hepburn  remarked,  ye  remember." 

"  Hepburn's  a  fool,"  growled  Rawes. 

"  Is  he  ?  "  retorted  the  Irishman.  "  Maybe,  but  it  was  you 
that  looked  the  fool,  to  my  mind." 

Rawes  would  have  retorted,  but  Graves  interposed.  "  None 
of  this,"  he  said.  "  I  agree  with  Rawes  that  the  gloves  are 
rather  stupider  than  the  foils.  But  I've  got  a  pack  of  cards 


4  Who  did  iff 

in  my  bureau,  which  I  bought  yesterday  in  Walesdiff.  We  can 
go  into  my  study  and  have  a  rubber.  That  will  help  out  the 
afternoon  till  it  holds  up,  as  I  half  fancy  it  will  do  by  and  bye" 

"Shouldn't  we  have  Hepburn  or  Wilkes,  or  maybe  the 
Doctor  himself  looking  in  ? "  suggested  Payne.  "  It  would 
make  the  Doctor  tremendously  savage,  if  he  caught  fellows 
playing  cards  in  the  studies.  He'd  be  down  upon  us  like 
blazes,  and  very  likely  give  us  a  black  cross  apiece — that 
forfeits  a  hundred  marks,  you  know." 

"Who'd  care  if  he  did?"  said  Rawes.  "What  signifies 
losing  a  hundred  marks  in  the  beastly  old  School  Register  ?  " 

"  I  daresay  ye  don't  care,  Dick,"  observed  O'Toole.  "  It 
doesn't  matter  to  you  how  many  marks  Hepburn  knocks  off 
your  list,  seeing  ye  never  have  any  to  knock  off.  A  man  might 
as  well  threaten  to  strip  a  Highlander  of  his  trousers,  or 
Charlie  Temple  of  his  money,  as  you  of  your  marks.  But 
they  that  have  got  'em,  don't  like  to  lose  'em." 

"Nobody  will  get  a  black  cross,"  observed  Taunton. 
"Wilkes  and  M 'Donald  have  gone  to  lunch  with  old  Gurdon, 
and  the  Doctor  and  Hepburn  have  both  of  them  gone  over  to 
Wickfield." 

Wickfield,"  repeated  Graves ;  "  then  they  won't  be  back 
for  ihree  or  four  hours  at  least  Well,  then,  let  us  go  in  and 
begin." 

"  Hear,  hear,"  said  Taunton,  as  they  moved  off  "  It's 
stupid  work  playing  cards  for  nothing,  and  I  haven't  a  brass 
farthing  in  my  pocket  to  stake,  or  rather,  I  have  just  one  six- 
pence and  no  more.  But  it's  better  than  nothing.  I  sav, 
Stephen,"  he  added,  taking  Graves  by  the  arm,  "  if  we  were  only 
at  Wilworth,  with  the  billiard-table  and  the  shooting-gallery, 


The  Wager.  5 

and  all  the  rest  of  it,  we  shouldn't  care  for  the  rain,  should 
we?" 

"No,"  returned  Graves,"  we  might  make  out  the  afternoon 
pretty  well  there;  but  we  can't  expect  billiard-tables  and 
shooting-galleries  in  a  miserable  hole  like  this." 

"  By  the  by,  talking  of  Wilworth,"  said  Taunton,  "  I  heard 
from  my  cousin  yesterday  about  his  gun  and  pistols.  He  does 
want  to  sell  them.  He  says  hell  let  you  have  them  cheap,  only 
he  would  like  to  know,  as  soon  as  he  could,  whether  you  mean 
to  buy  them." 

"  What  does  he  call  cheap?"  asked  Graves. 

"  Thirty  guineas  the  gun  and  case ;  ten  guineas  the  pistols," 
replied  Taunton.  "  Dirt  cheap,  he  says." 

"  Dirt  cheap ! "  repeated  OToole ;  "  by  the  powers,  the  dirt 
in  your  part  of  the  country  must  be  valuable.  It  must  be  gold 
dust,  I'm  thinking,  to  fetch  that  price.  I  am  wondering  if  ye 
call  that  cheap  what  ye'd  call  dear ! " 

"  Ah,  ye've  never  seen  them,  Maurice,"  replied  Taunton ; 
"but  Stephen  and  I  have, and  we  know  they*reworth  the  money, 
and  more.  And  you  can  pay  that,  Stephen,  to  be  sure.  Your 
guardian  would  let  you  have  the  thirty  guineas  for  the  asking, 
that  is,  if  he  happened  to  be  in  a  good  humour." 

"  So  he  might,  Jerry,"  returned  Graves,  "  but  unluckily  he 
isn't  often  in  a  good  humour  now-a-days.  He  made  a  great 
row  about  that  horse  last  holidays,  and  I  couldn't  get  more 
than  a  fiver  out  of  him  when  I  came  back  this  half.  But  you 
are  right,  Jerry.  They  are  well  worth  the  forty  guineas,  and  I 
should  like  particularly  to  have  them.  Ill  write  to  Clara,  and 
ask  her  to  try  and  come  round  him.  Ill  write  this  minute,  if 
you'll  go  into  my  study  and  get  the  cards  out" 


6  Who  did  iff 

Meanwhile  the  other  first-class  boys  had  remained  behind 
in  the  shed,  which  was  the  play-place  of  the  school  during  wet 
weather ;  and  Dilke  and  O'Toole,  who  were  not  to  take  part 
in  the  rubber,  lounged  out  again  to  join  them.  The  aspect  of 
the  sky  had  improved  a  little,  but  the  rain  continued  to  come 
persistently  down. 

"  Let  us  do  something,  at  all  events,"  cried  Winburne,  after 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  passed  in  mingled  hope  and  despondency. 
"  Nothing  can  be  more  stupid  than  hanging  about  with  our 
hands  in  our  pockets.  Suppose  we  try  leap-frog,  or  fly-the- 
garter." 

"  There  isn't  room  for  either,"  observed  Wright.  "  They've 
often  been  tried,  but  it  has  always  been  found  that  there  isn't 
space  enough  for  them.  But,  I  say,  did  I  hear  any  one  say 
just  now  that  the  Doctor  and  Hepburn  had  gone  out  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  O'Toole,  "  I  said  so.  I  heard  it  just  now  in  the 
school-room.  They  are  gone  to  Wickfield,  so  Tom  Cobbe 
says." 

"  Wickfield  !  are  you  sure  of  that  ?  "  asked  Burton,  the  head 
boy  of  the  school.  "  Do  you  know  what  they  have  gone  there 
for?" 

"  No,"  was  the  answer.  "  I  fancy  Cobbe  said  something 
about  a  pupil —  " 

"  A  pupil  ?  an  old  pupil  or  a  new  one  ?  "  broke  in  Burton. 

"  I  can't  say,"  replied  O'Toole.     "  Cobbe  didn't  tell  us." 

"Wickfield,"  repeated  Temple,  a  bright,  intelligent,  but 
rather  roguish-looking  lad,  the  next  in  school-order  to  Burton. 
"  Have  the  Doctor  and  Hepburn  gone  there  in  the  old  family 
landau?" 

"  I  believe  not,"  said  Dilke,  to  whom  the  question  seemed 


The  Wager.  7 

to  be  addressed.  "  There  is  a  coach  that  goes  to  Wickfield 
and  returns  every  day.  I  fancy  they  have  gone  by  that.  Any- 
way they  haven't  taken  the  landau." 

"  Haven't  they  ?  "  said  Temple.  "  Then  I'll  tell  you  what. 
Suppose  we  send  a  respectful  message  to  Mrs  Thornton,  and 
ask  for  the  loan  of  the  landau  ourselves !  No  doubt  she'll  be 
proud  and  happy  to  lend  it,  and  then  we  can  take  a  drive  into 
the  country.  There'll  be  room  for  seven  of  us — Burton,  Cress- 
ingham,  George,  and  myself  inside ;  Maurice  on  the  box ;  Jack 
Winburne  and  Tom  Hibbert  in  the  rumble." 

"  Hooroo  ! "  shouted  the  Irishman.  "  Ye're  a  sensible  child, 
Charlie !  We'll  make  a  morning  call  at  Wandesborough 
Castle,  though,  to  be  sure,  it's  afternoon  now  !  Lord  Wandes- 
borough will  be  delighted  to  see  us.  He'll  let  us  have  a  turn 
at  his  partridges,  and  give  us  a  cold  cdllation  with  Roriz  port 
and  October  ale  afterwards  ! " 

"So  he  would,  beyond  a  doubt,  Maurice,"  cried  Wright, 
"and  he'd  stand  champagne  twice  round  into  the  bargain.  But 
he'd  hardly  allow  his  partridges  to  be  shot  in  the  month  of 
August!" 

"  And  unluckily  his  lordship  is  in  Italy,  and  won't  return 
before  the  month  of  October,"  added  Winburne,  "  and  there'll 
hardly  be  time  to  write  and  tell  him  we  are  coming.  But  we 
really  might  drive  to  Hawley  Manor,  and  call  on  the  old  lady 
there.  Her  peaches  and  nectarines  are  not  to  be  despised,  and 
they'll  be  just  at  their  best  now." 

"  And  those  early  nuts  in  the  Hawley  woods  are  prime 
articles,"  added  Temple.  "  They'll  be  fit  to  pick  now.  That 
is  the  place  for  us  to  go  to,  if  Mrs  Thornton  will  only  be  so 
obliging  as  to  lend  us  the  carriage,  and  order  Lawes  to  drive 


8  Who  did  it  ? 

us_though,  for  the  matter  of  that,  I  should  be  willing  to  drive 
myself." 

"  In  that  case  I  am  afraid  we  should  hardly  get  there,"  said 
Cressingham.  "One  of  the  horses  kicks,  Cobbe  says,  and 
the  other  is  a  bolter." 

"  Anyway,  we  shouldn't  get  admission,"  added  Winburne. 
"  The  old  lady  is  ailing  a  good  deal,  and  won't  see  any  but 
intimate  friends  like  Captain  Gurdon." 

"  Oh !  half-a-crown  to  the  butler  would  set  that  all  right,"  said 
Temple.  "  He'd  show  us  in,  I'd  wager ;  and  the  old  lady 
would  forgive  him  when  she  found  what  pleasant  visitors 
she'd  got" 

"  And  where  would  ye  get  the  half-crown  from,  my  boy," 
interposed  O'Toole.  "Turn  out  your  pockets  and  let  us  see  it." 

There  was  a  general  laugh,'as  Temple  was  notorious  for  always 
having  empty  pockets.  The  allowance  given  him  was  in  the 
first  instance  scanty,  and  it  was  always  exhausted  at  the 
beginning  of  every  half-year  in  paying  off  the  debts  incurred 
in  the  last.  Temple  bore  the  laugh  good-humouredly. 
"  Never  you  mind,"  he  said,  "  I  could  find  half-a-crown  easily 
enough  if  I  wanted  it." 

"  Could  ye,  Charlie  ?  "  inquired  O'Toole.  "  Then  if  I  were 
you,  I  would  find  it.  What's  more,  I'd  give  ye  something 
handsome,  if  ye'd  teach  me  that  same  trick  of  finding  half- 
crowns,  when  ye  want  them  !  By  the  powers,  I  find  it  easy 
enough  to  get  rid  of  my  money,  but  as  to  finding  it  again  that's 
another  matter.  Where  would  I  look  for  it,  I  wonder  ?  " 

"  It's  all  his  gammon,"  said  Dilke  crossly.  "  He  doesn't 
expect  you  to  believe  it.  At  least,  he  must  be  a  fool  if 
he  does." 


Tlie  Wager.  9 

"I  don't  care  whether  you  believe  it  or  not,  Dilke," 
exclaimed  Temple ;  "  but  however  empty  my  purse  may  be 
at  this  moment,  I  could  produce  half-a-crown  this  very  evening, 
if  I  chose." 

"  Ye  could  ?  "  repeated  the  Irishman.  "  Ah  !  I  see,  ye'd 
borrow  it  of  someone — Wilkes  or  Hepburn,  or  maybe  Tom 
Cobbe." 

There  was  another  laugh. 

"  I  think  I  see  old  Hepburn  lending  anyone  half-a-crown," 
said  Winburne.  "Wouldn't  he  be  in  a  wax,  if  anyone  were  to 
ask  him." 

"And  particularly  if  Charlie  asked  him,"  added  Hibbert, 
"  whom  he  is  always  pitching  into." 

"  And  as  for  Wilkes,"  said  Wright,  "  he  hasn't  half-a-crown 
in  the  world  to  lend  to  anybody.  You  must  try  Tom  Cobbe, 
Charlie,  he  is  your  best  chance.  I  am  sure  he  ought  to  have 
half-crowns  enough,  considering  what  he  gets  out  of  the 
fellows." 

"  Tom  Cobbe  won't  have  anything  to  say  to  Charlie  after 
that  trick  he  played  him  last  half,"  remarked  Winburne. 

"What,  when  he  electrified  the  handle  of  the  door,  you 
mean  ?  "  said  Lander.  "  I  heard  something  about  that.  But 
I  was  in  the  sick  house  at  the  time,  and  never  knew  the  rights 
of  it.  Tell  us  exactly  what  happened." 

"  Why,  Doctor  Macrae,  one  of  the  swells  from  Cambridge, 
had  been  giving  a  course  of  lectures  on  Galvanism,  you  know, 
to  the  fellows,  and  had  left  the  battery  in  the  large  cupboard 
in  the  dining-hall.  Charlie  managed  to  get  it  upstairs 
into  his  bedroom.  When  Tom  came  with  Wilkes  to  take 
away  the  candle  at  nine  o'clock,  Charlie  had  connected  the 


io  Who  did  tt? 

wires  with  the  handle  and  lock  of  the  door,  and  put  on  the  bat- 
tery so  sharp,  that  old  Cobbe  roared  out  he  was  murdered, 
and  tumbled  head-over-heels  upon  Wilkes,  who  was  coming  up 
the  stairs  after  him." 

"  That  must  have  been  a  sight  to  see,"  remarked  Lander. 
"  Wasn't  there  an  awful  row  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  Wilkes  is  a  good-natured  fellow,  you  know.  And  so 
is  old  Tom,  for  the  matter  of  that,  when  he  has  had  his  say. 
And  besides  Charlie  contrived  to  palaver  Wilkes —  " 

"  You  mistake,"  interposed  Temple.  "  I  didn't  palaver  any- 
body. I  told  Mr  Wilkes  that  I  was  so  greatly  interested  in  Dr 
Macrae's  experiments,  that  I  lost  sight  of  all  other  considera- 
tions, in  my  endeavour  to  ascertain  their  correctness —  " 

"  Aye,  and  you  had  forgotten  that  Cobbe  might  possibly  be 
injured,  I  remember,"  supplemented  Winburne. 

"  Cobbe !"  repeated  Temple.  "  Who  is  Cobbe,  that  anybody 
should  think  about  him,  when  the  interests  of  science  are  at 
stake  ?  " 

"  I  see,"  said  Wright.  "  But  I  doubt  whether  Tom  himself 
could  be  induced  to  take  that  view  of  the  matter.  I  fear  he 
would  not  lend  you  the  half-crown,  Charlie,  after  all." 

"  I  had  no  idea  of  borrowing  of  Cobbe,  or  of  anyone  else," 
observed  Temple. 

"Then  I  suppose  you'd  pawn  your  watch,"  suggested 
Wright  "  Of  course  you  could  raise  money  upon  that." 

"  Many  thanks,  George ;  but,  as  I  have  never  had  any 
dealings  with  pawnbrokers,  I  don't  propose  to  begin  now." 

"Then  how  do  ye  mean  to  do  it,  my  lad?"  exclaimed 
O'Toole,  impatiently.  "  You're  not  going  to  take  to  the 
high-road  and  rob  people  of  their  money,  I  suppose,  or 
maybe  pick  their  pockets  in  a  crowd  ?  " 


The  Wager.  II 

"Never  you  mind  how,  Paddy," retorted  Temple.  "I  could 
do  it  if  I  chose.  That  is  all  I  say." 

"And  that  isn't  much,"  sneered  Dilke.  "A  fellow  may 
say  that  he  can  do  anything.  He  may  say  he  can  travel  to  the 
moon,  or  jump  over  St  Peter's  Church.  But  saying  is  one 
thing  and  doing  is  another." 

"  True  for  you,"  shouted  the  Irishman.  "  Didn't  my  Aunt 
Biddy,  the  old  neger — didn't  she  say  to  me  last  Christmas, 
'  Maurice,  my  boy,  I'll  give  ye  a  five-pound  note  if  ye'll  bring 
home  a  prize ; '  and  when  I  showed  her  the  knife  that  I  had 
won  in  the  three-legged  race  last  half,  didn't  the  old  catamaran 
say  she  didn't  mean  that  sort  of  prize  at  all,  at  all,  and 
wouldn't  give  me  so  much  as  His  Majesty's  likeness  in  copper. 
'  'Tis  a  prize  I  meant  for  which  ye'd  have  to  work,'  says  she. 
'  Is  it  work  you  mean  ? '  says  I,  '  and  if  ye'd  been  there,  ye'd 
have  seen  me  and  Jerry  Taunton,  too,  working  like  two  horses 
ploughing  a  bog  !  If  it's  work  ye  want,  'tis  a  ten-pound  note 
I  ought  to  have,  and  not  a  five ! '  But  the  old  skin-flint 
wouldn't  listen  to  reason,  bad  luck  to  her  for  it ! " 

"That's  the  way  she  got  out  of  it,  was  it?"  observed  Dilke, 
when  the  mirth  of  the  party  at  this  narrative  had  somewhat 
subsided.  "  I  suppose  Temple  means  to  get  out  of  his  pro- 
mise much  in  the  same  sort  of  way." 

"  Charlie  didn't  promise  anything,"  remarked  Wright 

"  Certainly  not,"  returned  Dilke.    "  He  only  gave  his  word." 

"  And  you'll  find  that  my  word  is  as  good  as  my  bond," 
cried  Temple,  indignantly. 

"  Just  about,"  retorted  Dilke,  in  the  same  tone  as  before. 

Temple  was  going  to  answer  him  more  angrily  still,  when 
Cressingham,  the  fourth  boy  in  the  school,  interposed.  He 


12  Who  did  it? 

had  been  talking  apart  to  his  friend  Burton,  and  had  caught 
only  imperfectly  what  was  passing.  But  the  loud  voices  and 
angry  words  of  the  disputants  now  attracted  his  attention.  He 
was  known  in  the  school  as  a  peacemaker,  and  he  hastened 
now  to  prevent  what  threatened  to  be  a  serious  quarrel. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  don't  let's  have  a  row ;  more  particu- 
larly as  there  doesn't  appear  to  me  to  be  anything  to  quarrel 
about.  It's  all  a  matter  of  opinion.  Temple  here  thinks  that 
he  can  raise  half-a-crown,  by  some  means  or  other,  before 
supper-time.  Well !  he  has  a  right  to  think  that,  and  it 
doesn't  hurt  anybody.  And  here's  Dilke  too — he  thinks 
Temple  couldn't  raise  it  Well !  I  suppose  he  may  think  that 
too  without  offence." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  said  Temple,  good-humouredly. 
"  Dilke  is  welcome  to  think  what  he  likes,  so  far  as  I  am 
concerned." 

The  matter  would  have  ended  at  this  point,  but  Dilke's 
ill-temper  would  not  let  him  be  quiet.  He  thought  he  had 
got  the  better  of  Temple,  and  he  was  not  disposed  to  forego 
his  advantage. 

"  A  fellow  has  a  right,  no  doubt,  to  think  what  he  likes,"  he 
said,  "  but  I  don't  know  that  he  has  any  right  to  say  what  he 
likes,  unless  he  can  make  it  good.  Temple  said,  that  though 
he  hadn't  any  money  in  his  pocket  now,  he  could  contrive  to 
get  half-a-crown  between  this  and  supper-time  without  borrow- 
ing it,  or  selling,  or  pawning  anything  in  exchange  for  it. 
That,  I  think,  is  one  of  the  random  assertions  he  is  always 
making.  And  I  challenge  him  to  make  it  good  if  he  can.  I 
don't  think  he  ought  to  be  allowed  to  get  out  of  it  by  simply 
saying  that  it  is  a  matter  of  opinion." 


The  Wager.  1 3 

"  Very  well,  I  will  make  it  good,"  said  Temple.  "  If  you 
choose  to  call  upon  me  at  supper-time,  Dilke,  I'll  either  pro- 
duce the  half-crown  or  beg  your  pardon.  If  I  do  produce  it, 
I  shall  expect  you  to  beg  mine." 

"  There,  there,  that  will  do  at  all  events,"  said  Burton, 
observing  that  Dilke  was  going  to  reply.  "  I  agree  with  Cres- 
singham  ;  we  have  had  too  much  of  this  already.  And  while 
we  have  been  talking,  the  sky  has  been  clearing,  and  the  sun 
is  coming  out.  We  are  going  to  have  a  fine  afternoon 
after  all." 

"  So  we  are,"  shouted  O'Toole.  "  Didn't  I  tell  ye  so  now  ? 
Here  he  comes,  good-luck  to  him,  as  round  as  my  hat !  Tom, 
ye  villain,  come  and  open  the  gate.  "  We'll  all  of  us  be  off 
to  the  shore,  and  have  a  sail  or  a  row." 

"You  won't  have  either  one  or  the  other,  Maurice," 
remarked  Wright.  "  Old  Gunn  is  up  here,  busy  in  clearing 
out  the  great  bath.  He  chose  to-day,  because  he  thought  it 
wasn't  going  to  clear,  and  therefore  none  of  us  would  want  to 
go  out." 

"  Well !  where's  Jem  Gunn,  then  ?  "  asked  Cressingham. 
"  He  will  do  as  well." 

"  Jem's  gone  up  to  London  about  the  salvage  of  a  ship  that 
was  wrecked  three  weeks  ago.  Without  one  or  other  of  them, 
you  know,  we  are  never  allowed  to  go  out." 

"  That's  a  bother,"  said  O'Toole ;  "  but  never,  mind.  We'll 
have  a  game  of  rounders  or  a  paper-chase  on  the  sands.  The 
rain  will  have  flooded  the  lanes,  but  it  can't  hurt  the 
sand." 

"  Hurrah  !  Maurice,"  shouted  several  voices,  "  we'll  be  off 
at  once.  And  here  comes  Tom  Cobbe  to  open  the  gate. 


14  W /to  did  it? 

Charlie,  you'll  come  with  us,  won't  you,"  added  Wright,  call- 
ing after  Temple,  who  was  walking  off  towards  the  house. 
.  "  I  wish  I  could  with  all  my  heart,"  was  the  answer,  "  but  I 
am  sorry  to  say  I  can't.  That  beast  Hepburn  gave  me  a 
hundred  lines  of  Virgil  to  write  out  this  morning,  because  he 
said  I  wasn't  attending." 

"  A  hundred  lines,"  repeated  Wright.  "  Why  didn't  you  do 
'em  while  the  rain  was  coming  down  ?  That  would  have  been 
just  the  time  for  doing  an  imposition,  if  one  must  do  one." 

"  It  was  very  stupid,"  assented  Temple.  "  If  I  had  thought 
there  had  been  any  chance  of  its  clearing  up,  I  would  have 
set  to  work  at  it  at  once.  But  it  can't  be  helped  now.  If 
you'll  go  down  to  the  beach,  I'll  follow  you  as  soon  as  I  can. 
There  is  some  of  it  done,  and  I  daresay  I  shant  be  more  than 
half-an-hour.  You  had  better  start,  for  it  will  be  no  use  wait- 
ing for  me."  * 

"  Not  the  least  in  life,"  assented  O'Toole.  "Now  then,  Tom, 
ye  neger,  why  don't  ye  open  the  gate ;  what  are  ye  waiting  for 
this  half  hour?" 

"  If  you'll  be  pleased  to  listen  to  what  a  man  has  to  say, 
Mr  O'Toole,"  said  Cobbe,  austerely,  "it  would  be  better 
manners ;  which  as  I  heard  the  Doctor  say,  you  was  sent  here 
to  acquire." 

There  was  a  peal  of  merriment,  for  the  remark  in  question 
was  a  favourite  one  of  the  Doctor's,  when  O'Toole  got  into 
one  of  his  frequent  scrapes. 

"  Bravo  !  Tom,"  said  Temple,  "  you  had  him  there.  Well ! 
let's  hear  what  it  is  you  have  to  say." 

"  I've  a  message  from  Mr  Wilkes,  Mr  Temple,"  replied 
Tom,  "  or,  to  speak  more  correct,  from  Captain  Gurdon  and 


The  Wager.  15 

Mr  Wilkes.  They  told  me  to  say  that  they  were  going  to 
walk  over  to  Hawley  Manor  this  afternoon,  and  any  of  the 
young  gentlemen,  as  belong  to  the  first  and  second  classes, 
was  welcome  to  go  with  them,  if  so  be,"  added  Cobbe  with  a 
glance  at  O'Toole,  "  if  so  be  they  would  behave  themselves 
conformable." 

"  Draw  it  mild,  Tom,"  exclaimed  Wright ;  "  did  Captain 
Gurdon  or  Mr  Wilkes  tell  you  to  say  that  ?  " 

"  Maybe  they  did,  Mr  Wright,"  returned  Tom  sedately,  "  and 
maybe  I  added  it  of  my  own  sense  of  propriety ;"  and  under 
cover  of  the  general  laugh  which  followed  this  remark,  he 
retired  to  his  own  domain. 

His  announcement  caused  general  satisfaction.  Hawley 
Manor,  which  lay  at  a  distance  of  three  miles  or  so,  was  the 
property  of  Miss  Hawley,  a  lady  of  middle  age,  and  the 
daughter  of  one  Captain  Hawley,  who  had  served  with  Cap- 
tain Gurdon,  Mrs  Thornton's  brother,  under  Jervis  and  Howe. 
Miss  Hawley  regarded  her  father's  old  messmate  with  so  much 
esteem,  that  he  was  not  only  always  himself  an  acceptable  visitor 
at  the  Manor,  but  was  allowed  occasionally  to  bring  a  party 
of  the  Holmvvood  boys  with  him,  who  were  welcomed  for  his 
sake,  and  regaled  after  a  fashion  extremely  agreeable  to 
school-boys.  Captain  Gurdon's  invitation  was  conveyed  into 
the  school-room  to  Graves  and  his  companions,  who  straight- 
way broke  off  their  game  in  mid-rubber,  and  prepared  to  join 
the  party ;  from  which  it  soon  appeared  that  none  of  the  first 
or  second  class  would  be  absent,  always  excepting  the  ill- 
starred  Temple. 

"  I  say,  Charlie,  this  is  unlucky,"  said  Wright.  "Only  fancy 
your  missing  this.  You  had  better  come,  and  let  the  imposi- 


1 6  Who  did  it? 

tion  be  hanged.  I've  no  doubt  the  old  lady  will  give  us  no 
end  of  a  blow-out.  There'll  be  her  grapes  and  apricots  and 
peaches.  And  there'll  be  the  nuts  too  - 

"  Aye,  if  the  gipsies  haven't  been  before-hand  with  you," 
said  Temple. 

"  Gipsies,"  repeated  Winburne ;  "  what  gipsies  ?  There 
aren't  any  about  in  this  neighbourhood,  are  there  ?  " 

"  Not  now,"  said  Burton.  "  There  was  a  gipsy  encamp- 
ment some  weeks  ago  on  Gossard's  Heath  somewhere,  so  old 
Gunn  told  us  the  other  day.  But  they  are  all  gone,  I  believe." 

"  How  do  you  know  they  are  all  gone  ? "  asked  Temple. 
"There  may  be  some  left.  But  as  for  accompanying  you, 
George,  I  am  afraid  it  is  not  to  be  thought  of.  Hepburn 
would  make  no  end  of  row  if  I  went  out  before  I  had  done 
the  imposition." 

"  There'll  be  plenty  of  time  to  do  it  after  we  come  back," 
said  Wright,  "  and  Hepburn  can't  call  for  it  before  supper- 
time.  How  could  he  know  that  you  hadn't  done  it  before  you 
started." 

"  He'd  be  safe  to  ask  the  question,"  said  Temple,  "  when  he 
heard  where  we  had  been.  No  !  it  can't  be  helped,  and  after 
all  it's  my  own  fault." 

He  retired  into  the  school-room,  just  as  Captain  Gurdon 
and  Mr  Wilkes  issued  from  the  Doctor's  front  door ;  and  the 
whole  party  set  off,  with  all  the  eagerness  of  school-boys,  on 
their  expedition. 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE  GIPSY  GIRL. 

IT  wanted  scarcely  five  minutes  to  supper-time  when  the  boys 
returned  from  their  excursion.  Evening  school  and  prayers 
followed  immediately  afterwards.  Temple  and  his  friends  had 
no  opportunity  of  conversing  together  until  prayers  were  over. 
But  there  intervened  half-an-hour,  and  sometimes  three-quarters, 
between  prayers  and  the  time  when  the  usher,  accompanied 
by  the  school  servant,  went  round  to  remove  the  lights  from 
the  boys'  bed-rooms.  This  was  a  favourite  interval  for  the 
head  boys  to  get  together  and  have  a  gossip,  or  play  a  game 
of  some  kind  in  their  studies.  On  the  west  side  of  Holmwood 
Priory — which  was  a  very  ancient  building,  and  had  once  been 
a  Convent  of  Greyfriars,  there  were  still  the  remains  of  an  old 
cloister,  and  four  small  rooms,  believed  to  have  been  the  cells 
of  the  monks.  They  were  not  above  six  feet  square  each ;  but 
the  narrow  slips  which  had  once  formed  the  windows,  had  been 
considerably  enlarged  in  size,  and  in  winter  the  rooms  were 
warmed  by  hot-water  pipes,  so  that  they  formed  four  very  com- 
fortable studies  for  the  four  head  boys.  There  was  a  rule  that 
not  more  than  three  boys  should  be  allowed  in  any  of  them  at 
the  same  time.  This  was  generally  thought  to  have  been 


1 8  Wlwdidit? 

made  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  a  rubber  of  whist 
being  played  in  them,  though  the  reader  may  judge  from  the 
last  chapter  what  prospect  there  was  of  this  regulation  being 
observed.  A  simpler  reason,  however,  was  that  three  persons 
were  as  many  as  could  possibly  occupy  the  rooms  without 
rendering  them  intolerably  close. 

No  sooner  were  prayers  over  than  Temple,  laying  hands  on 
his  two  cronies,  Wright  and  Winburne,  invited  them  to  a  half- 
hour's  chat  in  his  study.  They  agreed,  nothing  loth,  being 
anxious  to  discuss  the  occurrences  of  the  afternoon. 

"  Well,  Charlie,"  said  Wright,  as  they  took  the  three  seats 
wherewith  the  room  was  garnished,  to  wit  a  broken  arm-chair, 
a  ditto  footstool,  and  a  box  turned  bottom-upwards — "  Well, 
Charlie,  you  polished  off  Dilke  at  supper  in  grand  style — I 
must  say  that !  Where  you  got  the  half-crown  from,  it  is  be- 
yond me  to  conjecture.  But  you  did  get  it,  and  that  was 
everything.  Dilke  thought  he  had  got  it  all  his  own  way.  I 
never  saw  a  fellow's  face  fall  so,  as  his  did,  when  you  brought 
out  the  half-crown  !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Winburne,  "  I  overheard  him  and  Dick  Rawes 
talking  about  it,  as  we  came  home  from  the  Manor.  '  Temple 
will  be  done  this  time,'  said  Rawes.  '  This  walk  over  here 
will  floor  him.  I  fancy  he  meant  to  go  down  to  Colonel 
Wilder's,  and  get  the  half-crown  out  of  Harry  Wilder.'  '  Oh,  he 
said,  he  didn't  mean  to  borrow  it  of  any  one,'  says  Dilke. 
'  No,'  says  Rawes,  '  but  he  might  ask  Harry  to  give  it  to  him, 
or  Harry  might  have  owed  him  a  half-crown,  perhaps.  But 
this  going  over  to  Mother  Hawley's  has  bowled  him  out. 
Tom  locked  the  gate  when  we  went  out,  and  Temple  couldn't 
get  out  until '  '  A  fellow  may  climb  the  wall  of  the  outer 


The  Gipsy  Girl.  19 

court,'  again  interrupts  Dilke.  'I  know  that,'  says  Rawes, 
'  but  he  couldn't  get  back  again.  That  has  been  tried  again 
and  again,  and  it  is  quite  impossible.  Cobbe  might  let  him 
out,  to  be  sure ;  but  he's  safe  not  to  do  that.  He  owes  Temple 
one,  and  he'll  pay  him  out.  No,  Master  Charlie  will  be  a  close 
prisoner  till  we  get  back.  I  must  say  I  shall  enjoy  seeing  his 
face,  when  he  has  to  beg  your  pardon,  Jem.' " 

"Just  as  we  enjoyed  seeing  Dilke's  face  when  he  had  to 
beg  yours,  Charlie,"  remarked  Wright.  "Well,  where  you  got 
the  half-crown  from,  I  can't  imagine,  and  I  suppose  it  is  no 
use  asking." 

Temple  shook  his  head  gravely.  "  There  are  secrets  which 
must  not  be  revealed,  George,"  he  said.  "  But  come,  I  want 
to  hear  what  you  did  to-day.  I  hope  you  had  lots  of  fun. 
You  were  out  long  enough  at  all  events.  I  thought  you  were 
never  coming  back  ! " 

"Yes,  I  was  so  sorry  that  you  missed  it,  Charlie,"  said 
Winburne.  "  When  we  came  back  and  found  you  moping 
over  that  book  in  a  corner  of  the  school-room,  I  was  quite 
sorry  for  you.  It  was  tip-top  fun,  I  assure  you  !  Couldn't  have 
been  better  if  we  had  laid  it  all  out  a  week  before." 

"  What  did  you  do  ?  "  asked  Temple. 

"  Did  ? "  answered  Wright.  "  First  of  all,  Wilkes  and 
Gurdon  went  up  to  the  house.  We  stopped  at  the  shrubbery 
gate,  presently  down  comes  the  butler  with  a  message. 
'  Miss  Hawley  wasn't  well.  She  had  heard  some  news  that 
had  upset  her.'  Somebody  or  other — we  couldn't  quite  make 
out  who — had  been  hurt,  or  was  dangerously  ill,  or  something. 
Anyhow,  Miss  Hawley  couldn't  see  anyone  except  Captain 
Gurdon,  and  him  only  for  a  few  minutes.  But  we  were  all 


20  Who  did  it  f 

welcome  to  go  into  the  woods  and  pick  any  ripe  nuts  we  could 
find,  and  at  five  o'clock  we  were  to  go  up  to  the  house  and 
there  would  be  luncheon  for  us — luncheon  he  called  it,  though 
it  was  rather  a  late  one." 

"  That  didn't  signify  much,"  said  Temple.  "  Well  done, 
Mother  Hawley.  I  must  say  she's  a  worthy  old  lady! 
Were  the  nuts  good  ?  " 

"  The  nuts  were  nothing  to  the  fruit  and  cake,  not  to  speak 
of  the  negus,"  said  Winburne,  licking  his  lips. 

"  I  don't  know  that,"  said  Wright.  "  I  never  ate  better  nuts 
than  those  in  the  south  corner  of  the  wood,  where  the  trees 
had  had  plenty  of  sun.  And  there  were  lots  of  them,  too, 
more  than  the  whole  school  could  have  eaten,  if  all  the  fellows 
had  been  there." 

"Yes,"  said  Winburne,  laughing.  "If  the  gipsies  that 
Charlie  was  speaking  about  had  been  there,  no  one,  at  all 
events,  would  have  guessed  it." 

"  The  gipsies,"  repeated  Temple.  "  I  was  only  chaffing  you 
when  I  spoke  about  them.  I  guess  you  didn't  see  any  gipsies 
about." 

"You're  just  wrong  there,  Charlie,"  said  Wright.  ,  "We  did 
fall  in  with  one  of  them — a  girl  of  seventeen  or  so,  I  should 
say.  She  met  us  just  as  we  were  leaving  the  wood  to  go  up  to 
the  house." 

"  Was  she  good-looking  ?  "  asked  Temple. 

"Good-looking  !  no,  I  should  think  not,"  returned  Wright. 
"  A  gaunt,  ragged,  dirty-looking  creature  as  ever  I  saw.  She 
had  on  a  red  shawl,  and  a  large,  limp  bonnet,  which  quite  hid 
her  hair,  everywhere  except  in  front.  A  more  miserable 
looking  object  I  never  saw." 


The  Gipsy  Gin.  21 

"  Indeed,"  said  Temple,  "  perhaps  you  didn't  notice  her 
very  closely." 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  said  Wright,  "  I  took  stock  of  her  all  over, 
from  the  holes  in  her  shoes  to  the  discoloured  patch  on  her 
shawl." 

"She  wanted  to  tell  your  fortunes,  I  suppose,"  said  Temple. 

"  For  a  wonder  she  did  not,"  said  Winburne  ;  "  she  came 
with  a  long  doleful  story  about  her  family.  Her  father  had 
been  taken  ill  at  Elmer's  End  with  the  fever —  " 

"  A  jail  fever,  I  should  judge,"  interpolated  Temple. 

"  Maybe,"  said  Wright,  "  but  she  said  it  was  typhus.  Her 
mother,  she  told  us,  had  been  dead  a  twelvemonth,  and  she 
had  three  little  sisters  and  two  little  brothers — " 

"  Just  the  regulation  story,"  again  observed  Temple,  "  and 
I  suppose  there  was  no  one  to  look  after  her  sick  father  and 
small  brothers  and  sisters  except  herself,  and  she  hadn't  any 
means  of  getting  a  livelihood." 

"  Well !  you're  not  far  wrong  there,  Charlie,"  said  Wright. 
"  She  had  been  left  behind  when  the  other  gipsies  went  away, 
because  her  father  wasn't  fit  to  be  moved,  and  now  that  he 
was  getting  well,  all  she  wanted  was  enough  money  to  enable 
her  to  join  them.  The  tribe  were  encamped,  she  said,  about 
thirty  or  forty  miles  off." 

"  Got  up  first-rate,"  said  Temple.  "  Were  any  of  you  taken 
in?" 

"Ah  !  you  didn't  hear  her,"  remarked  Winburne.  "If  you  had 
you  wouldn't  talk  in  that  way.  We  all  pitied  her,  and  felt  sure 
that  she  spoke  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the 
truth,  as  they  say  at  the  Assizes.  Old  Gurdon  in  particular —  " 

"  What !  was  the  old  Captain  as  soft  as  the  others  ?  "   cried 


22  Who  did  iff 

Temple.  "  I  should  have  thought  that  he  would  have  been  up 
to  snuff,  anyhow." 

"  I  tell  you,  Charlie,"  cried  Winburne,  impatiently,  "  you 
don't  know  what  you're  talking  about.  I  am  quite  certain  that 
if  you  had  been  there,  and  listened  to  her  story,  you  would 
have  subscribed  along  with  the  others." 

"  Aye,  Charlie'would  have  given  her  the  half-crown  which  he 
brought  out  at  supper,  and  allowed  Dilke  to  crow  over  him, "said 
Wright.  "  Anyway  if  you  had  refused,  you  would  have  been 
the  only  one  that  did.  There  was  a  whole  pot  of  money  raised. 
Old  Gurdon  shelled  out  half-a-crown,  and  Wilkes  a  shilling —  " 

"  I  wonder  where  he  got  it  from,"  interrupted  Temple. 

"  I  can't  say,"  returned  Wright,  "  but  he  did  give  it,  and 
Burton  and  Graves  gave  each  a  shilling,  and  Cressingham,  and 
Taunton,  and  Hill,  and  Lander,  and  I  myself,  and  ever  so 
many  more,  sixpence.  Even  Rawes  gave  a  threepenny-bit, 
which  I  didn't  think  anything  in  the  world  would  have  got 
out  of  him !  " 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Temple,  "  she  must  have  made  out  a  very 
deplorable  story,  indeed.  I  can  just  fancy  what  she  would 
say.  '  Oh  good,  young  gentlemen,  take  pity  upon  poor  people, 
that  haven't  anyone  to  help  them.  We  are  dying  of  starvation, 
if  you  could  see  my  dear  little  brothers  and  sisters,  all  skin 
and  bone — ' " 

"  Hallo !  "  exclaimed  Wright,  starting  in  astonishment,  at 
the  altered  tones  of  his  schoolfellow's  voice.  "  Why,  to  be 
sure,  you  don't  mean — ' 

"  There's  father  took  the  fever,"  continued  Temple,  "  and  I 
can't  get  him  no  doctor,  and  no  physic  !  It's  too  far  for  the 
doctor  to  come,  he  says,  and  Rose,  and  Betsy,  and  Susan 


The  Gipsy  Girl.  23 

haven't  had  no  victuals  since  yesterday  morning  ;  and  Tom 
and  Sammy —  " 

"  By  Jove,  Charlie,  that's  the  girl  herself!  Why,  you  don't 
mean  it  was  you  dressed  up,  to  be  sure  ?  " 

"  Oh !  gammon,"  exclaimed  Winburne,  "  that's  Charlie's 
chaff,  I  can't  believe  that." 

Temple  made  no  answer,  but  he  put  his  hand  into  his 
pocket  and  brought  out  a  handful  of  silver.  "There's  the 
half-crown  you  were  talking  about,  which  I  brought  out  at 
supper,"  he  said,  selecting  a  battered,  old  coin  from  the  heap. 

"  And  that's  old  Gurdon's  half-crown  ! "  exclaimed  Win- 
burne. "I  remember  it  well.  It  was  I  who  took  the  hat  round. 
Old  Gurdon  said  it  was  a  battered,  old  veteran  like  himself, 
when  he  gave  it.  And  there's  Burton's  shilling  with  a  hole 
through  it,  and  Jerry  Taunton's  crooked  sixpence,  which  he 
said  would  bring  good  luck.  Well !.  Charlie,  you  are  a  rare 
one,  I  must  say  that  for  you !  How  in  the  world  did  you 
manage  this  ?  Where  did  you  get  the  clothes  from  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  it  wasn't  difficult  to  manage,"  said  Temple.  "  You 
know  old  Mother  Maggots,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  What,  the  old  woman  that  keeps  that  old  rag-shop  at  the 
end  of  Crawley  Lane,  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Wright. 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,"  said  Temple.  "  She  is  not  a  very  credit- 
able acquaintance,  but  one  must  not  be  particular,  when  one 
is  in  difficulties.  I  went  to  her  house  as  soon  as  I  had 
finished  my  imposition." 

"Yes,  but  how  on  earth  did  you  manage  to  get  out?" 
asked  Winburne.  "  Did  Tom  forget  to  lock  the  gate  ?  Rawes 
declared  that  he  saw  him  do  it.  But  perhaps  he  was  mistaken." 

"  Never  mind  how  I  got  out,"  said  Temple.     "  I  did  get 


24  Wlu)  did  it  ? 

out  and  that's  enough,  and  I  went  straight,  as  I  told  you,  to 
Mother  Maggots.  There  we  looked  out  the  clothes  between 
us.  I  don't  think  I  was  badly  got  up." 

"  No,  indeed,"  assented  Wright.  "  You  would  make  your 
fortune  as  a  dresser  at  the  theatre.  But,  I  say,  you  hadn't  a 
farthing  when  we  went  out,  I  know.  How  did  you  manage 
to  pay  for  the  clothes  ?  " 

"  Oh,  there  are  ways  and  means,"  said  Temple,  mysteriously. 
"  I  got  'em,  that's  enough." 

"  I  suppose  she  let  you  have  the  clothes  on  credit,"  said 
Wright.  "  Well,  that  is  more,  by  a  good  deal,  than  I  should 
have  expected  of  her.  To  be  sure,  I  don't  suppose  the  whole 
lot  of  clothes  would  fetch  half-a-crown  at  a  rag  shop.  But  I 
should  judge  she  was  in  the  habit  of  dealing  with  people  who 
would  cheat  their  own  mothers  for  sixpence,  not  to  say  half-a- 
crown." 

"  I  guess  your  estimate  of  her  is  not  very  far  wrong,  George," 
returned  Temple. 

"  And  to  be  sure,"  resumed  Wright,  "  she  did  not  lend  them 
on  credit  after  all,  for  I  suppose  you  changed  your  clothes  at 
her  cottage,  and  left  them  with  her  while  you  went  on  your 
begging  expedition.  So  she  had  pretty  good  security." 

"  Well,  I  didn't  do  that,"  said  Temple.  "  She  would  have 
had  rather  too  good  security  then.  My  coat  and  waistcoat  and 
shoes  and  the  rest  were  worth  something  ;  and  when  I  came 
back,  I  might  have  found  that  old  dame  Maggots  had  taken 
them  to  her  uncle's  while  I  was  away,  and  had  had  their  value 
out  in  drink.  No.  I  carried  away  the  clothes  1  had  got  from 
her  in  a  bundle — carried  them  into  Hawley  Wood,  and  made 
my  toilette  in  the  middle  of  some  thick  bushes." 


The  Gipsy  Girl.  2$ 

"  And  you  took  the  rags  back  to  her  when  you  had  done 
with  them,  I  suppose,  and  paid  your  shilling?"  suggested 
Wright. 

"  No,  I  didn't.  There  wasn't  time.  You  see  I  didn't  know 
that  you  fellows  were  going  up  to  the  park  again.  You  might 
have  been  all  just  setting  out  to  go  home  for  all  I  knew,  and 
if  I  hadn't  been  in  the  school-room  when  you  returned,  Wilkes 
would  have  been  down  upon  me,  and  reported  the  matter  to 
Hepburn." 

"  And  you  came  back  here  in  those  rags  ! "  exclaimed 
Winburne.  "  You  don't  mean  it,  to  be  sure  !  " 

"I  do  though,"  said  Temple. 

"  How  did  you  get  into  the  house  ? "  inquired  Wright. 
"  You  never  came  in  at  the  front  gate,  even  if  Tom  Cobbe  had 
chanced  to  leave  it  open." 

"I  got  in,"  said  Temple. 

"  And  where  did  you  dress  ?  " 

"  In  the  back  part  of  the  shed,"  replied  Temple.  "  By  good 
luck  no  one  was  about,  and  it  only  took  a  minute  or  two. 
The  gipsy's  rags  I  stowed  away  in  the  bottom  of  my  bureau. 
I  shall  take  them  back  to  Mother  Maggots  on  the  first  oppor- 
tunity, and  pay  her  for  the  use  of  them." 

"Well,  Charlie,  you  are  a  strange  article,  that's  certain," 
said  Wright,  "and  were  not  born  on  a  Saturday  night.  But  there 
is  one  thing  which  I  think  you  have  overlooked,  and  that  may 
be  rather  a  serious  consideration.  What  do  you  mean  to  do 
with  the  money  you  have  collected  from  old  Gurdon,  and 
Wilkes,  and  Burton,  and  the  others." 

"  Oh,  I  mean  to  give  it  back  to  the  fellows,  of  course,'' 
rejoined  Temple,  colouring  a  little.  "  You  didn't  think  I 
meant  to  keep  it,  did  you  ?  " 


26  Who  did  it? 

"  Not  the  least  bit,  Charlie.  But  has  it  ever  occurred  to 
you  that  you  can't  give  back  the  money  unless,  at  the  same 
time,  you  explain  how  you  came  by  it.  If  you  give  old 
Gurdon  his  half-crown,  for  instance,  he'll  want  to  know  how 
the  gipsy  girl  came  to  give  it  to  you." 

"  I  should  explain  the  trick,"  said  Temple.  "  Old  Gurdon's 
too  good-natured  a  fellow  to  be  angry.  He  would  laugh 
heartily." 

"  Very  likely,  though  I'm  not  sure  whether  he  wouldn't  feel 
bound  in  honour  to  tell  the  Doctor.  He's  always  on  honour 
on  these  occasions  not  to  allow  any  of  the  rules  of  the  school 
to  be  broken.  But  anyway,  how  about  Wilkes  ?  It's  impossible 
that  he,  at  all  events,  should  wink  at  the  thing." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not,"  assented  Temple.  "  I  didn't  think 
of  that,  I  confess.  Well !  then  I  suppose  I  must  put  the  shil- 
ling back  into  Wilkes'  desk.  I  can  drop  it  through  the  crack 
by  the  hinge,  and  he'll  find  it  there,  and  think  it  has  fallen 
out  of  his  purse.  As  for  old  Gurdon,  it  will  be  easy  enough 
to  put  the  half-crown  back  into  his  purse.  He  always  leaves 
it  in  his  breast-pocket  when  he  takes  off  his  coat  to  play 
cricket  or  fives.  As  for  the  other  fellows,  Burton  and  the  rest, 
I  can  give  them  their  money  back,  of  course,  and  tell  them 
how  I  got  it." 

"  Humph  !  "  said  Wright,  "  I  don't  know  about  that.  If  I 
were  in  your  place  I'd  rather  that  the  old  Captain,  or  the 
Doctor,  or  Wilkes,  or  even  Hepburn  himself,  knew  what  had 
happened,  than  Rawes  and  Dilke  and  their  friends." 

"  Their  friends.  What !  Graves  and  Taunton,  do  you 
mean  ?  "  asked  Temple. 

"No,"  said  Wright.    " Taunton  is  as  good-natured  a  fellow  as 


The  Gipsy  Girl.  27 

any  in  the  school,  though  he  does  belong  to  that  set ;  and 
Graves,  though  he's  a  sulky  and  disagreeable  beast,  for  whom 
I  entertain  a  very  particular  dislike — he  wouldn't  do  anything 
underhand.  No,  I  am  speaking  of  young  Payne,  and  Owen, 
and  Burt,  and  one  or  two  others,  lower  down  in  the  school, 
who  are  always  ready  to  do  anything  mean  that  Dilke  and 
Rawes  want  to  have  done.  I  think  it  quite  as  likely  as  not, 
that  if  they  knew  what  you  had  been  up  to,  they'd  contrive  in 
some  underhand  way  to  let  Hepburn  know  of  it, 'and  Hepburn 
wouldn't  be  likely  to  let  you  off,  as  you  know  pretty  well." 

"  As  I  know  very  well,"  assented  Temple.  "  He  has  never 
forgiven  me  for  sticking  pins  into  his  false  calves,  the  first  half 
I  was  here." 

"  Did  you  do  that,  Charlie  ?  "  asked  Winburne.  "  I  never 
heard  of  that  But  you  were  here  a  year  or  two  before 
me." 

"Yes,  I  did,"  said  Temple.  "  Hepburn[is  very  proud  of  his 
legs,  you  know,  especially  when  he  turns  out  in  black  knees 
and  tights  of  an  evening  at  a  party.  It  used  to  be  the  common 
talk  in  the  school,  that  he  wore  false  calves,  but  no  one  knew 
whether  it  was  true  or  not.  The  Doctor  gave  a  ball  at  the 
end  of  my  first  half,  as  I  believe  he  had  done  once  or  twice 
before,  and  invited  [all  the  neighbourhood.  I  was  passing  by 
Hepburn's  bedroom,  and  saw  his  clothes  laid  out  ready  for 
him  to  dress.  I  looked  in  and  saw  the  stockings  with  the  false 
calves,  sure  enough.  I  went  and  borrowed  half  a  dozen  large 
pins  of  Mother  Edwards — black  pins,  with  large  knobs  at  the 
ends,  and  I  stuck  three  in  to  each  calf.  Old  Hepburn  never 
found  it  out,  until  the  evening  was  half  over.  He  had  been 
dancing  away  no  end,  and  thought  the  people  were  admiring 


28  Who  did  it  ? 

his  legs.  So  they  were,  to  be  sure,  but  not  for  the  reason  he 
supposed.  When  he  did  find  it  out,  luckily  for  me  I  had  gone 
with  the  other  juniors  to  bed,  and  went  home  by  the  early 
coach  next  morning,  long  before  he  was  up.  He  couldn't  very 
well  take  the  matter  up  after  the  holidays,  and  I  judge  he 
didn't  think  it  wise  to  write  to  my  mother  about  it,  seeing 
that  it  would  be  only  making  himself  all  the  more  ridiculous. 
I  am  told  he  was  furious  when  he  first  found  it  out,  and 
threatened  all  sorts  of  things.  He  didn't  say  much  to  me  about  it, 
but  I've  had  good  reason  to  know  that  he  has  never  forgotten 
it.  No,  it  wouldn't  do  to  let  him  know  about  this  business, 
certainly.  But  I  can't  think  that  Dilke  and  Rawes  would  be 
mean  enough  to  carry  tales  of  this  kind  to  Hepburn  or  any 
of  the  masters." 

"  You  can't  ?  "  repeated  Wright.  "  Well,  then,  I'll  tell  you 
what  happened  two  years  ago,  when  Black  was  here.  You 
remember  '  Coal  Black,'  Charlie  ?  " 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,"  replied  Temple,  "  he  was  so  called  be- 
cause he  used  to  sit  smoking  in  the  coal-hole." 

"  Exactly.  Dilke  and  Rawes  hated  him  like  poison,  because 
Black  had  prevented  them  from  licking  one  of  his  friends. 
Rawes  had  wanted  Tommy  Gill  to  swear  to  some  lie  or  other  ; 
and  because  Tommy  wouldn't,  Rawes  began  thrashing  him 
savagely,  while  Dilke  held  him.  Black  interfered.  He  wasn't 
bigger  than  either  Rawes  or  Dilke,  but  he  had  twice  their 
pluck.  They  durstn't  fight  him,  but  they  resolved  to  pay  him 
out  somehow  or  other.  And  they  did  manage  it,  the  brutes — 
cunningly  enough  ! " 

"  I  never  heard  this,"  said  Temple. 

"  No,"  said  Wright,  "  it  was  only  known  to  one  or  two— 


The  Gipsy  Girl.  29 

indeed,  I  don't  think  it  was  known  fully  to  anyone  but  me, 
and  I  had  my  reasons  for  holding  my  tongue  about  it.  But 
I'll  tell  you  how  they  managed  it.  Black  was  in  the  habit  of 
sitting  in  the  old  coal-hole,  as  you  said  just  now.  The  coal- 
hole in  the  wood-yard  is  always  empty  during  the  summer. 
Ashes  and  rubbish  are  thrown  there,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  the  cellar  is  not  filled  till  the  autumn.  No  one  had 
occasion  to  go  in  there,"  returned  Temple.  "  That's  why 
Black  used  to  smoke  there,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,"  said  Wright.  "  Well,  one  day,  Hepburn 
walks  straight  into  this  yard —  " 

"  And  caught  Black  smoking,  eh  ?  "  suggested  Temple. 

"  Well,  no,  by  good  luck  he  didn't.  Black  had  finished 
his  pipe,  and  put  it  into  his  pocket,  not  a  minute  before. 
Hepburn  was  just  too  late." 

"But  what  had  Rawes  and  Dilke  to  do  with  that?"  in- 
quired Temple. 

"  They  had  everything  to  do  with  it,"  said  Wright.  "  You 
see  Hepburn  had  lost  a  card  case,  and  was  inquiring  of  all 
the  fellows  if  anyone  had  seen  it.  Now,  Rawes  and  Dilke 
did  know  where  the  card  case  was,  for  they  had  chanced  to 
pick  it  up  half  an  hour  before.  I  happened  to  see  them  do  it, 
though  they  didn't  see  me.  But  instead  of  giving  it  to  Hep- 
burn, they  swore  they  had  seen  it  lying  in  the  ash  heap  in  the 
coal-shed ;  and  so,  to  be  sure,  they  had,  for  they  had  put  it  there 
themselves.  Hepburn  went  straight  to  the  place,  as  they  had 
expected ;  and  poor  old  Black  only  just  escaped  by  the  skin 
of  his  teeth,  as  they  say.  I  said  nothing  about  it,  because  I 
couldn't  prove  my  story,  and  those  two  fellows  would  have 
backed  one  another  up  through  thick  and  thin.  But  I  have 


30  Who  did  it  ? 

never  had  any  opinion  of  Dilke,  or  of  Rawes  either,  since  that 
day." 

"  No,"  said  Winburne ;  "  and  you  are  not  singular  in  the 
view  you  take  of  them.  But  how  is  Charlie  to  get  out  of  this 
mess?  I  quite  agree  with  him  that  he  can't  keep  this  money 
—come  what  may,  he  can't  do  that.  Well,  he  can  put 
Captain  Gurdon's  half-crown  back  into  his  purse  and  Wilkes's 
shilling  into  his  desk,  but  he  can't  put  back  all  the  shillings, 
and  sixpences,  and  silver  threepences  which  the  fellows 
subscribed  into  their  purses  or  pockets  either.  And  I  think 
you  are  right  in  saying  that  it  wouldn't  be  safe  for  him  to  tell 
them  all  about  it.  I  don't  see  my  way,  I  confess.  We  are 
non-plussed  here ! " 

There  was  silence  for  a  minute  or  two,  and  then  Wright 
suddenly  exclaimed,  "I  have  it  Charlie.  You  must  dress 
yourself  in  your  gipsy's  clothes  again,  and  bring  all  the 
money  back.  You  must  write  a  letter  to  Captain  Gurdon, 
saying  that  some  charitable  gentleman  has  given  you  a 
lot  of  money,  and  you  don't  think,  therefore,  you  ought  to 
take  the  young  gentlemen's  contributions,  or  some  palaver  of 
that  sort,  and  you  can  enclose  all  the  cash  in  the  letter." 

"  Won't  that  sound  very  strange,  George  ?  "  asked  Temple. 

"  Perhaps  it  may, "  returned  Wright,  "  but  I  can't  think  of 
anything  better.  There  must  be  some  reason  given  for  the 
return  of  the  money,  and  it  will  be  very  difficult  to  give 
one  which  would  not  seem  strange.  And,  remember,  when 
you  have  once  got  clear  of  the  premises,  you  can  change  your 
clothes  in  one  of  the  sheds  near  the  house ;  and  they  may 
make  any  search  they  like  after  the  gipsy  girl,  but  they  won't 
find  her." 


The  Gipsy  Girl.  31 

"  No,"  said  Winburne,  "  and  I  don't  see  why  they  should 
search  after  her,  or  what  they  could  bring  up  against  her. 
They  couldn't  make  out  that  she  was  a  rogue.  Rogues  are 
not  in  the  habit  of  giving  people  their  money  back." 

"  That  is  true,"  assented  Temple.  "  Well,  I  suppose  if 
nothing  better  can  be  thought  of,  I  must  do  that.  What  day 
will  be  the  best  for  trying  it  ?  " 

"  We  mustn't  lose  time,"  said  Winburne.  "  Let  me  see,  to- 
day is  Wednesday.  To-morrow  is  a  school-day,  and  we  are 
not  allowed  to  go  beyond  the  play-ground.  But  Friday  is  a 
half-holiday,  and  there  will  be  the  playtime  from  two  to  six,  as 
usual.  Better  say  Friday,  Charlie." 

"  It  had  better  not  be  Friday,"  urged  Wright.  "  There  is 
going  to  be  a  diving  match  between  Maurice  and  Jerry  Taun- 
ton  at  three  o'clock  that  day,  and  I  want  particularly  to  see 
Maurice  dive.  But  I  shouldn't  like  to  miss  seeing  you  again 
in  your  gipsy  dress,  Charlie,  nor,  I  fancy,  would  Jack 
either." 

"  I  wouldn't  miss  it  for  a  five  pound  note,  if  any  one  were 
to  offer  it  to  me,"  said  Winburne ;  "  and  besides,  I  expect 
Charlie  will  want  our  help.  Put  it  off  till  Saturday,  I  vote. 
There  is  the  two  hours'  play-time  on  that  day,  you  know.  That 
will  do  every  bit  as  well." 

"  Very  well.  Saturday  be  it  then,"  said  Temple.  "And  now 
we  must  be  off  to  bed,  or  Wilkes  may  catch  us  out  of  our  rooms. 
Good  night,  George  ;  good  night,  Jack." 

"  Good  night,  gipsy,"  responded  Wright,  laughing.  And 
the  boys  went  upstairs  to  their  rooms. 


CHAPTER  III. 

AX  ADVENTURE. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  go  down  to  see  this  diving  match  ?  "  asked 
Cressingham  of  his  friend  Burton,  as  they  left  the  school-room, 
on  the  Friday  following  the  expedition  to  Hawley  Manor. 
"  It  seems  to  excite  a  good  deal  of  interest  among  the  fellows, 
but  I  don't  seem  to  care  much  about  it  ?  " 

"  Nor  I,"  replied  Burton.  "  Taunton  and  Maurice  are  both 
of  them  good  divers,  no  doubt.  But  when  one  has  seen  that 
kind  of  thing  once,  one  has  seen  all  there  is  to  see ;  and  the 
day  is  too  fine  to  be  used  up  in  that  way." 

"  Suppose  we  take  the  Betsy  Jane  then,  and  go  to  Hard- 
man's  Cove  for  a  bathe.  It  will  be  just  the  afternoon  for  it. 
What  do  you  say,  Clem  ?  " 

"  It  was  just  what  I  had  in  my  mind,  Fred.  The  day  is 
delicicusly  warm,  and  Hardman's  Cove  is  my  favourite  bath- 
ing place.  And  we  can  take  the  Betsy,  I  have  no  doubt. 
Old  Gunn  finished  the  bath  yesterday,  and  will  be  able  to  go 
with  us." 

"  Done  with  you,  then,"  cried  Cressingham.  "  We'll  be  off 
at  once  then,  before  any  one  engages  the  Betsy  Jane.  We'll 
take  old  Nep  with  us.  He's  been  tied  up  during  all  this  rainy 


An  Adventure.  33 

weather,  and  Mrs  Thornton   asked   me   to   take  him  for  a 
run/' 

"  All  right,"  said  Burton.     "  I'll  go  and  fetch  the  towels,  if 
you'll  untie  him." 

The  boys  set  out  for  Gunn's  cottage ;  Nep  bounding  before 
them,  overjoyed  at  his  recovered  freedom.  He  was  a  splendid 
animal,  a  Spanish  blood-hound,  and  had  been  brought  when  a 
puppy  from  Cuba,  by  Captain  Gurdon.  The  Captain  was 
fond  of  telling  the  boys  how  the  animal  had  come  into  his 
possession.  He  had  been  staying  at  the  house  of  a  Spanish 
planter,  during  one  of  the  insurrections  of  the  negroes,  which 
at  that  time  were  common  enough  in  the  island.  Senor 
Menotti  had  been  besieged  in  his  own  house  by  the  blacks, 
and  had  only  beaten  them  off  by  the  help  of  Captain  Gurdon 
and  some  of  his  officers,  who  by  good  fortune  were  guests  in 
the  house  at  the  same  time.  The  Captain  had  contrived  to 
send  a  message  by  a  slave  boy  to  his  own  ship,  which  was 
lying  in  a  small  bay  at  a  few  miles  distance.  The  number  of 
the  negroes,  as  well  as  their  ferocity,  was  overpowering.  The 
house  was  like  most  of  the  West  Indian  houses,  so  constructed 
as  to  render  it  very  difficult  to  defend  it  against  an  attack. 
The  blacks  soon  forced  an  entrance,  and  drove  the  inmates 
from  one  storey  to  another,  until  they  had  to  take  refuge  on 
the  roof.  Finding  it  difficult  to  dislodge  them  from  thence, 
the  assailants  were  on  the  point  of  setting  fire  to  the  house, 
when  a  volley  of  musketry  stopped  them.  A  strong  party  from 
the  Neptune,  Captain  Gurdon's  ship,  had  arrived  in  the  very 
nick  of  time.  Senor  Menotti  was  profuse  in  his  thanks,  and 
overwhelmed  his  deliverers  with  gifts.  Captain  Gurdon  would 
accept  nothing  but  a  blood-hound  puppy,  which  had  greatly 


34  Wlio  did  it  ? 

taken  his  fancy,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  "  Neptune,"  in 
memory  of  the  occasion.  The  animal  was  one  of  tremendous 
power,  but  as  is  often  the  case,  so  perfectly  gentle  and  docile, 
that  not  even  the  most  timid  boys  in  the  school  were  afraid  to 
play  with  it.  It  was  of  course  a  great  favourite,  but  no  one, 
unless  with  special  permission,  was  allowed  to  take  it  out 
with  them. 

Burton  and  his  companion  soon  reached  old  Gunn's  cottage, 
but  here  a  disappointment  awaited  them.  The  old  man  was 
sitting  in  an  arm-chair  by  the  fireside,  but  he  did  not  get  up  to 
greet  them. 

"  Want  to  go  out  in  the  Betsy,  do  you,  Mr  Burton  ? "  he 
said.  "  I'm  afear'd  I  can't  go  with  you.  I've  got  the  plum- 
bago so  bad  this  morning,  that  I  feel  as  if  I  was  broke  in  half. 
'Spect  I  caught  it  in  cleaning  out  that  bath  in  the  rain  last 
Wednesday.  I  scarcely  think  I  could  creep  down  as  far  as  the 
beach,  but  I'll  try  if  you  wishes  it." 

"  You  mustn't  think  of  that,  John,"  said  Burton.  "  It's  a 
bore,  but  it  can't  be  helped.  We  must  put  it  off,  that's  all. 
You'll  be  right  again  by  Wednesday,  I  make  no  doubt.  The 
weather  seems  likely  to  last,  and  we  can  go  out  then." 

"  You  can  go  now,  sir,  if  you  like.  The  Betsy's  all  right. 
She  has  her  sails  and  oars  aboard,  and  she's  all  but  afloat." 

"  Ah  !  we  wanted  to  go  to  Hardman's  Cove.  But  we 
mustn't  do  that  without  you  or  James.  Hasn't  Jim  come 
back?" 

"No,  they's  keeping  him  up  in  London,  one  day  after 
another.  He  was  to  have  been  back  last  Wednesday,  so 
he  wrote  me  word ;  but  he  ain't  come  yet." 

"  We  can't  go  then,  that's  certain,"  said  Burton. 


An  Adventure.  35 

"Can't  go  to  Hardman's  Cove,"  said  Cressingham  ;  "but 
we  may  go  and  sail  about  in  the  harbour.  That  will  be  better 
than  nothing.  Don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  like  it,"  answered  Burton.  "  We  can  sail  up 
and  down  from  the  lighthouse  to  Grimes's  cottage,  and  the 
wind  will  just  suit.  Come  along  and  we'll  get  the  boat  off. 
Stop,  though,  we  mustn't  take  Nep.  We  are  not  allowed  to 
take  him  in  the  boat,  unless  Gunn  or  Jim  are  with  us.  We 
must  shut  him  in  your  cottage  until  we  are  gone,  and  then  let 
him  run  home." 

They  took  leave  of  the  old  man  and  went  down  to  the 
beach.  Here  they  pushed  off  the  Betsy  Jane,  and  getting 
aboard,  hoisted  the  sail,  and  went  away  with  a  slanting  wind 
towards  the  mouth  of  the  harbour.  It  was  not  so  pleasant  an 
excursion  as  the  one  they  had  planned,  but  it  was  very  enjoy- 
able nevertheless.  There  was  a  warm  sun,  a  pleasant  breeze, 
and  a  very  lovely  landscape  around  them.  On  the  seaward  side 
lay  a  range  of  high  limestone  rocks,  with  clefts  here  and  there, 
through  which  the  deep  blue  of  the  sea  was  visible.  To  land- 
ward, the  fishermen's  cottages  were  grouped  in  picturesque 
confusion  round  the  little  early  English  church,  with  the 
narrow  streets  of  Walescliff  proper  stretching  up  the  hill 
beyond.  At  a  short  distance  the  grey  walls  and  heavy 
chimneys  of  Holmwood  Priory  presented  themselves,  half 
hidden  in  the  wood,  by  which  they  were  environed. 

The  Priory  was  a  very  ancient  building,  once  a  religious 
house,  as  its  name  implied.  It  had  passed  through  many  hands, 
and  had  fallen  gradually  into  decay.  Some  forty  years  before, 
it  had  been  bought  and  converted  to  its  present  use  by 
Doctor  Thornton's  father.  At  the  entrance  of  the  harbour 


36  Who  did  it  ? 

appeared  the  "  Lighthouse  Rock,"  a  huge  mass  of  limestone, 
surmounted  by  the  lighthouse,  which  marked  the  entrance 
into  the  rather  dangerous  harbour  of  Walescliff.  Beyond, 
for  miles,  extended  a  lofty  range  of  almost  perpendicular  cliffs, 
and  in  the  far  distance,  the  outline  of  Curlew  Island,  with  the 
roof  of  the  convict  prison,  situated  upon  it,  sparkling  in  the 
sun. 

"  A  glorious  day  isn't  it,  Clem  ?  "  said  Cressingham.  "  A 
bathe  in  the  Cove  would  have  been  quite  perfect  What 
possessed  old  Gunn  to  have  lumbago  to-day  of  all  days  in  the 
year!" 

"  I  wasn't  thinking  of  the  bathe  so  much,  as  of  the  last  time 
I  was  there.  I  went  with  Jack  Thorn  and  poor  old  George 
Alford.  It  was  just  before  they  both  left." 

"Ay,  George  was  as  good  a  fellow  as  ever  lived,"  said 
Cressingham.  "  I  wasn't  as  thick  with  him  as  you  were,  Clem, 
but  I  don't  think  I  ever  liked  a  fellow  better.  And  Jack,  too, 
was  a  good-natured  fellow,  if  he  hadn't  been  half  mad.  They 
say  he  might  have  had  the  Manor  after  Mother  Hawley's 
death,  if  he  hadn't  put  her  back  up." 

"  It  was  with  the  old  Squire  he  quarrelled,  not  with  Mother 
Hawley,"  said  Burton.  "After  that  last  row  old  Hawley 
settled  a  hundred  and  fifty  upon  him  for  his  life,  and  then  cut 
him  out  of  his  will,  and  swore  he'd  never  see  his  face  again ; 
and  he  didn't  either." 

"  Didn't  old  Hawley  leave  the  money  after  Jack's  death,  to 
be  given  as  a  prize  or  something  to  the  fellows  here  ?  "  asked 
Cressingham.  "  I've  heard  such  a  story,  though  it  doesn't 
seem  very  likely." 

"  It's  true,  though,"  said  Burton.     "  Mr  Knyvett  told  my 


An  Adventure,  37 

aunt  so.  He's  her  solicitor,  you  know.  I  know  exactly  how 
it  happened.  Old  Thornton  went  over  to  remonstrate  with 
the  Squire,  and  ask  him  to  give  Jack  another  chance.  He's 
good-natured  enough,  you  know,  is  the  Doctor.  Old  Hawley 
wouldn't  have  it ;  but  he  was  pleased  with  Thornton  never- 
theless. 'You're  a  good-natured  fellow,  anyway,'  said  the 
Squire, '  and  I'll  tell  you  what,  I'll  leave  the  money  after  this 
young  scamp's  death,  to  be  given  as  a  prize  to  your  boys. 
It's  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a-year,  you  know — that'll  be 
fifty  pounds  a-year  for  three  years,  to  your  head  scholar  every 
year.  It'll  be  the  making  of  your  school,  Thornton.' " 

"  It  may  be  the  making  of  the  school,  forty  or  fifty  years 
hence,"  observed  Cressingham,  "  but  I  don't  see  that  it's  likely 
to  benefit  the  Doctor  much,  seeing  that  he's  old  enough  to  be 
Jack's  grandfather  almost." 

"  That's  what  my  aunt  said,"  rejoined  Burton.  "  But 
Knyvett  didn't  agree  with  her.  'Young  Thorn's  with  his 
regiment,'  he  said,  'fighting  Soult  in  the  Peninsula.  He's 
as  likely  as  not  to  be  knocked  on  the  head  any  day.' " 

"Well,  he  hasn't  been,"  said  Cressingham.  "He  went 
through  the  Peninsula  without  a  scratch,  and  though  he  got 
a  wound  at  Waterloo,  it  wasn't  serious." 

"  I'm  not  sure  of  that,"  said  Burton.  "  Didn't  you  hear 
the  other  day,  when  we  were  over  at  the  Manor,  something 
about  a  relation  of  Miss  Hawley's  who  was  ill  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Cressingham  ;  "  but  I  didn't  hear  that  it  was 
Jack  Thorn." 

"  Old  Hicks  didn't  say  who  it  was,  but  he  said  something 
about  an  old  wound,  and  I  had  a  sort  of  fancy  that  it  might 
be  Jack  he  was  speaking  of.  But  I  say,  Fred,  we  have  passed 
the  lighthouse  rock,  we  must  go  about  again." 


38  Who  did  it  ? 

"So  we  have,"  assented  Cressingham.  "I  was  thinking 
about  Jack  Thorn,  and  wasn't  looking  out.  Take  in  the  sail, 
Clem.  I'll  get  out  the  oars.  We  had  better  row  back  to 
Grimes's." 

Burton  complied,  and  began  lowering  the  sail,  when  he 
suddenly  stopped.  "  Hold  hard  there,"  he  said,  "  do  you 
see  those  two  fellows  out  there  on  the  Quoits  ?  They  are 
hailing  us,  aren't  they  ?  " 

Cressingham  looked  round.  At  the  distance  of  a  few 
hundred  yards,  there  was  a  group  of  five  rocks,  bearing  a  rude 
resemblance  to  quoits.  They  were  almost  entirely  uncovered 
at  low  water,  but  when  the  tide  was  at  its  height,  only  the 
tops  of  the  two  highest  were  visible.  On  the  summit  of  one 
of  these,  two  men,  naked  to  the  waist,  were  now  standing. 
They  were  apparently  shouting  at  the  top  of  their  voices,  but 
the  distance  was  too  great  for  any  words  to  be  heard. 

"They  want  us  to  take  them  on  board,  Fred,"  said  Burton. 
"  I  expect  they  have  been  bathing,  and  the  current,  which  is 
very  strong  just  there,  has  carried  them  out  to  sea.  Look, 
they  have  nothing  but  bathing-drawers  on.  What  ought  we  to 
do  ?  It's  against  rules  to  go  beyond  the  lighthouse,  but  these 
fellows  will  have  to  stop  several  hours  on  the  rocks  there  if  we 
don't  take  them  off." 

"  Yes,"  said  Cressingham,  "  and  one  of  them  may  be  hurt 
or  taken  ill,  for  all  we  know ;  and  it  would  be  no  joke  waiting 
there  till  after  dark.  I  don't  think  anyone  could  blame  us  for 
fetching  them  off." 

"  That's  very  much  my  opinion,"  said  Burton.  "  If  we  left 
them  there,  and  anything  happened,  we  should  blame  our- 
selves, even  if  others  didn't  blame  us." 


An  Adventure.  39 

"  All  right,"  said  Cressingham.  "  Hoist  the  sail  again,  and 
I'll  take  the  rudder." 

Ten  minutes  or  so  sufficed  to  bring  the  Betsy  Jane  to  the 
spot.  As  they  approached  nearer,  they  could  see  that  the  men 
did  not  we.ar  bathing-drawers,  as  Burton  had  supposed,  but 
trousers  of  some  coarse,  dark  material,  cut  off  apparently  at 
the  knees.  They  were  strongly-built,  hard-featured  fellows, 
and  their  appearance  was  so  little  that  of  bathers,  who  had 
been  carried  out  by  the  tide,  that  Burton,  as  the  boat  drew 
near,  turned  the  rudder,  intending  to  hold  some  parley  before 
he  took  them  on  board.  But  one  of  the  strangers  noticing  the 
manoeuvre  leaped  into  the  water,  and,  catching  hold  of  the 
bow,  scrambled  in  before  either  of  the  boys  could  prevent 
him. 

"  Hold  hard,  my  hearty,"  exclaimed  the  new  comer.  "  You 
mustn't  do  that.  Here,  give  me  the  rudder."  As  he  spoke 
he  made  his  way  to  the  stern,  and  snatched  the  tiller  from 
Cressingham's  hands.  "  Now  then,  Tom,"  he  shouted,  "jump 
in  here  as  quick  as  you  can.  We've  lost  a  heap  of  time,  and 
I  wonder  they  haven't  been  after  us  before  this.  Just  hand 
me  the  file,  though.  We  may  chance  to  want  that  again." 

The  man  addressed  as  Tom  complied  with  his  companion's 
request.  He  leaned  down  from  the  shelf  of  the  rock  as  the 
boat  was  brought  close  to  it,  and  handed  him  a  short  file, 
which  the  other  thrust  into  the  pocket  of  his  trousers.  He 
then  scrambled  down  into  the  boat,  which  he  shoved  off  from 
the  rock.  Then  he  seated  himself  by  the  side  of  the  other 
man,  and  all  four  stared  awhile  at  one  another. 

"  You  don't  like  our  company  overmuch,  I  judge,"  said  the 
man  at  the  helm  presently.  "Well,  we  don't  want  yours. 


40  Who  did  it? 

You  can  get  out  on  them  stones  there,  if  you  want  to  be  shut 

of  us." 

"That's  pretty  cool,"  said  Cressingham,  "seeing  that  the 

boat  is  ours." 

"  And  that  if  we  hadn't  come  to  help  you,  you'd  have  had 
to  stay  on  the  stones  yourselves,"  added  Burton. 

"  The  boat  is  yours,  is  it,  sir  ? "  asked  Tom,  in  a  much 
civiller  tone  than  his  comrade  had  used,  "  Well,  sir,  we  don't 
mean  to  steal  it,  I  assure  you.  We  only  want  to  borrow  it  for 
a  few  hours,  and  then  you  can  have  it  back  again.  Come  to 
help  us  ?  So  you  did,  sir,"  he  continued,  turning  to  Burton. 
"  Well,  we're  obliged,  and  will  do  you  a  good  turn  some  day, 
I  daresay.  But  just  now  we're  obligated  to  take  care  of  our- 
selves." 

"  We've  a  deal  more  need  to  be  taken  care  of  than  they 
have,"  growled  the  other  man,  whose  name  they  presently 
learned  to  be  Bill. 

"  You  are  stronger  than  we  are,"  said  Burton,  "  and  if  you 
choose  to  seize  our  boat  we  can't  prevent  you.  You  had 
better  tell  us  plainly  what  you  mean  to  do." 

"  That's  plain  speaking,  anyhow,"  returned  Bill,  "and  I'll  be 
as  plain  in  my  turn.   We  are  going  over  to  Dead  Man's  Point. 
You  know  that,  I  suppose  ?  "    As  he  spoke,  he  and  the  other 
man  seated  themselves,  took  the  oars,  and  began  rowing." 
"  Yes,  I  know  Dead  Man's  Point,"  said  Burton. 
"  Very  well.     If  you  two  choose  to  sit  quiet,  you  can  go  with 
us.     If  you  don't,  you  can  swim  ashore  if  you  like,  we  won't 
prevent  you." 

"  Can't  you  put  us  ashore  at  Walescliffe  ?  "  asked  Cressing- 
ham. "  We  can  send  Jem  Gunn  round  to  Dead  Man's  Point 


An  Adventure.  41 

and  fetch  the  boat  back.  We  don't  want  to  go  to  Dead  Man's 
Point  ourselves.  It's  against  the  rules  of  our  school." 

"  Can't  help  that,"  replied  Bill  surlily.  "  Maybe  we'd  fall  in 
with  folk  there  that  wouldn't  be  willing  to  let  us  go  again. 
You'd  better  make  up  your  minds  at  once,  whether  you  are  to 
go  with  us  or  swim  ashore." 

"We  must,  of  course,  go  with  you,"  said  Burton.  "We 
can't  help  ourselves.  I  am  not  sure  I  could  swim  that  distance 
with  my  clothes  on,  and  am  pretty  certain  that  Fred  couldn't. 
I  think  I  understand  pretty  plainly  who  you  are.  You  are  two 
convicts  who  have  escaped  from  Curlew — " 

"  You'd  better  not  trouble  yourself  about  that,"  growled 
Bill.  "  If  you  do,  you  may  happen  to  wish  you  hadn't" 

"  I  don't  mean  to  trouble  myself  about  you,"  said  Burton. 
"  I  don't  see  what  would  be  the  good  of  my  doing  so." 

"  No  more  don't  I,"  retorted  the  man.  "  Take  the  tiller, 
and  steer  straight  for  the  Point." 

By  this  time  the  boat  was  abreast  of  the  lighthouse,  and  the 
two  lads  looked  somewhat  anxiously  in  the  direction  of  the 
shore  in  the  hopes  that  some  of  the  fishermen's  boats  might 
be  coming  out.  But  there  was  none  in  sight ;  and  they  re- 
signed themselves  as  composedly  as  they  could  to  their 
situation. 

In  about  an  hour  they  passed  the  Green  Holm,  as  a  long, 
low,  richly-wooded  island,  lying  in  the  middle  of  the  estuary 
of  the  Spene,  was  called.  The  boat  had  made  rapid  way,  both 
the  rowers  being  not  only  powerful  men,  but  experienced  oars- 
men. They  had  approached  within  two  hundred  yards  or  so 
of  the  landing-place,  when  the  man,  who  had  been  throughout 
addressed  by  the  other  as  Bill,  suddenly  ceased  rowing. 


42  Who  did  it  ? 

"  Stop  a  bit,"  he  said,  "  I  should  like  to  know  what's  going 
to  be  done  now." 

"  What  should  be  done? "  answered  Tom.  "  We  shall  get 
ashore  at  the  Point,  and  then  these  young  gents  can  have  their 
boat  back  again.  With  this  wind  they'll  get  home  in  half- 
an-hour." 

"  So  I  suppose,"  answered  the  other ;  "  and  if  they  puts  the 
constables  on  our  track,  the  ride  through  Spene  Wood — if 
they  gallops  as  they's  pretty  sure  to  do — ain't  much  more  than 
another  half-hour." 

"  They  won't  put  the  constables  on  our  track,"  said  the  other 
man.  "  I  know  they  won't." 

"  You're  always  soft,  Tom ;  and  we  shouldn't  have  got  into 
trouble,  if  you  hadn't  been.  Anyway,  lefs  make  sure  as  they 
won't  blab.  Look  here,  sir,"  he  continued,  turning  to  Burton, 
"  will  you  promise  as  you  won't  blow  upon  us  ?  " 

"  I  shan't  say  anything  at  all,  unless  I'm  asked,"  answered 
Burton. 

"  I  daresay,  but  what  if  you  are  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  going  to  tell  lies  to  please  any  one,"  rejoined  Bur- 
ton shortly. 

"  No,  sir,"  observed  Tom,  "  and  we  don't  want  you  to." 

"  That  won't  do,"  cried  Bill.  "  Just  look  here,  Tom.  I'm 
not  going  to  be  nabbed  and  sent  back  in  irons,  and  maybe 
get  six  dozen  into  the  bargain,  because  you  choose  to  be  soft- 
hearted." 

"  What  do  you  want  to  do  then  ?  "  asked  Tom. 

"  Put  these  youngsters  ashore  on  the  Holm,  and  leave  the 
boat  at  the  Point — " 

"  Leave  the  young  gentlemen  maybe  all  night  on  the  island 


An  Adventure.  43 

there,"  exclaimed  Tom,  "and  rain  coming  on  as  likely  as 
not ! " 

"  There's  the  cottage,  isn't  there,  and  old  Ball  and  his  wife  ?  " 
said  Bill. 

"  They'll  be  gone  home  before  now,  Bill.  It's  as  likely  as 
not,  anyway." 

"  Well,  I  don't  want  to  keep  them  there  all  night,  only  an 
hour  or  two.  They  can  go  and  hail  old  Ball,  and  get  home 
by  Spene  Wood,  or  wait  here  till  some  one  comes  to  the  Point, 
and  shout  to  'em." 

"  They  might  wait  till  to-morrow,"  answered  the  other. 
"  No,  I  can't  have  that.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  them,  we  should 
have  been  on  the  Quoits  now,  or  perhaps  nabbed  and  took 
back.  I'm  not  going  to  be  so  unthankful  as  to  do  what  you 
want.  I'd  rather  be  took  back,  and  let  them  do  what  they  like 
to  us  than  that." 

"  You're  a  fine  fellow,"  said  Burton,  who  had  been  listening 
to  their  conversation  ;  "  and  I'll  promise  you  this — if  I'm  asked, 
or  if  Fred  here  is  asked,  we  won't  say  where  we've  been  or 
what  we've  been  doing  at  all,  at  least  not  for  another  week  to 
come.  We  can  only  be  punished  for  being  out  after  lock-up 
time,  and  we  shan't  care  about  that." 

"  You're  a  gentleman,  sir,"  said  Tom.  "  Your  word  is  quite 
enough.  Come,  Bill,"  he  continued,  turning  to  his  companion, 
"  you  hear  what  the  young  gentleman  says.  Let  us  get  on  as 
fast  as  we  can,  and  give  them  the  boat  back  again.  I  tell  you 
I  will  have  it  so,"  he  proceeded  in  a  more  determined  tone,  as 
he  noticed  that  the  other  still  seemed  unwilling  to  comply. 
"  I  will  have  it  so,  I  say ;  and  you  know  I'm  not  to  be  trifled 
with,  when  I  make  up  my  mind." 


44  Who  did  it  ? 

Bill  obeyed,  though  evidently  dissatisfied.  "  And  how,  I 
should  like  to  know,"  he  said,  as  he  recommenced  rowing,  "what 
is  to  become  of  us  when  we  do  land  ?  Not  a  halfpenny  in  our 
pockets,  and  no  clothes  but  a  pair  of  stockings  and  half  a  pair 
of  trousers  a-piece.  You  think  so  much  of  these  young  gents 
having  to  pass  a  night  out  of  doors  in  the  rain,  though  they 
have  got  all  their  clothes  and  their  warm  boating-jackets  into 
the  bargain.  What  do  you  think  is  going  to  happen  to  us  ? 
How  are  we  to  get  food  or  shelter  either  ?  " 

"  We  must  watch  our  time,"  said  the  other,  "  and  do  the 
best  we  can.  Anyway,  here  we  are.  Now  step  ashore,  and 
we'll  wish  these  young  gentlemen  good  evening,  and  thank 
them  for  their  kindness." 

"  Hold  hard,"  said  Burton.  "  The  evening  is  warm,  and  we 
shan't  want  our  boating  jackets.  Do  you  mind  lending  yours, 
Fred  ?  I  don't,  if  you  will.  I'm  sure  this  good  fellow  will 
return  them." 

"  Not  the  least,"  said  Cressingham ;  "  and  here's  a  handker- 
chief, too,  which  one  of  them  can  tie  round  his  head.  I  agree 
with  you,  I  am  quite  sure  they  will  be  returned  to  us." 

"  You  are  very  good,  sir,"  said  Tom.  "  I  won't  deny  as  the 
jackets  will  be  very  useful,  because  if  people  saw  us  all  but 
naked  in  this  way,  they'd  be  asking  questions,  and  there  ain't 
no  cottages  between  this  and  Wickfield —  " 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  stupid,"  broke  in  Bill.  "  What  do  you 
go  mentioning  names  for  ?  " 

"  Never  mind,  Bill,"  was  the  reply ;  "  these  young  gentlemen 
are  not  going  to  say  anything  that  could  hurt  us.  We  shall 
be  very  much  obliged  for  the  use  of  the  jackets,"  he  continued, 
"  but  I  don't  see  how  we  can  send  them  back  to  you." 


An  Adventure.  45 

"  I'll  tell  you  how,"  said  Burton.  "  You  say  you  are  going 
to  Wickfield.  I'll  give  you  a  note  to  a  friend  of  mine  who 
lives  there.  He'll  take  the  jackets  and  send  them  back  to  us 
on  the  first  opportunity."  He  took  out  his  pencil  as  he  spoke, 
and  wrote  a  few  words  on  the  envelope  of  a  letter.  He  then 
twisted  the  paper  up,  wrote  a  direction  on  the  back,  and  handed 
it  to  Tom,  together  with  the  two  boating-jackets.  "There," 
he  said,  "  is  the  note,  and  here  are  the  jackets ;  and  here  is  a 
shilling  to  get  you  some  bread  and  cheese  at  the  Plough  and 
Harrow,  which  is  half-way  between  this  and  Wickfield.  If 
you've  had  nothing  to  eat  all  day,  you'll  be  wanting  it." 

"  God  bless  you,  sir,  for  your  kindness,"  said  the  man  respect- 
fully, "  and  good-night  to  you  both." 

He  was  just  moving  off  when  Cressingham  called  to  him. 
"  You  had  better  look  at  the  direction  of  the  note,"  he  said, 
"  and  be  sure  you  can  read  it." 

The  man  complied,  and  Cressingham  noticed  that  he  gave 
a  little  start  of  surprise  as  he  read  the  address.  "  Oh,  yes,"  he 
said,  "I  know  the  house.  It  is  as  well  known  as  any  in 
Wickfield." 

Once  more  bidding  the  two  boys  good-night,  the  men  moved 
off,  and  soon  disappeared  in  the  wood.  Cressingham  hoisted 
the  sail,  while  Burton  took  the  helm.  The  breeze  which  had 
freshened  at  sunset  was  now  sufficient  to  carry  the  Betsy  Jane 
before  it  with  even  greater  speed  than  Tom  had  predicted,  and 
little  more  than  twenty  minutes  had  passed  before  they  land  ed 
off  Gunn's  cottage.  Leaping  out,  they  made  fast  the  painter 
to  the  great  windlass,  and  then  ran  up  at  the  top  of  their  speed 
to  the  old  fisherman's  door. 

"  We   are  a  good  quarter  of  an  hour  behind  time,"  ob- 


46  WJio  did  it  f 

served  Cressingham,  glancing  at  the  church  clock  as  they 
passed. 

"  It  can't  be  helped,"  said  Burton.  "  Here  Gunn,  old  chap," 
he  continued,  putting  in  his  head  at  the  cottage  door,  "  give 
us  our  coats  and  hats  as  quick  as  you  can.  Hallo !  what's 
this?" 

This  last  exclamation  was  caused  by  Neptune,  who  burst  out 
of  the  house  as  soon  as  the  door  was  opened,  and  began  bound- 
ing round  the  boys.  "  Why,  Gunn,"  cried  Cressingham,  "  what 
made  you  tie  him  up  instead  of  letting  him  go  home  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  tie  him  up,  Mr  Cressingham.  He  wouldn't  go. 
He's  been  a-keeping  watch  over  your  clothes,  and  wouldn't 
leave  'em." 

"  What  a  bore,"  said  Cressingham.  "  We  shall  get  into  a 
worse  row  for  keeping  Nep  out. 

"  It  can't  be  helped,"  said  Burton  again.  "  We  must  make 
all  the  haste  we  can  now." 

They  hurried  on  accordingly  as  fast  as  they  could  run,  until 
they  reached  the  Priory  gate,  which  they  expected  to  find 
locked.  But  to  their  surprise,  it  was  standing  open,  and  as 
they  entered  the  gravelled  path,  Dr  Thornton,  accompanied 
by  Graves  and  Taunton,  came  up  from  the  opposite 
direction. 

"  Oh,  so  you've  found  him,  Burton,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor, 
as  his  eye  lighted  on  Neptune.  "  Do  you  know  where  he  has 
been?" 

"Down  at  Gunn's  cottage,  sir,"  answered  Cressingham. 
"  Gunn  told  us  so." 

"Gunn.  Why  didn't  he  bring  him  up  here?"  asked  the 
headmaster. 


An  Adventure.  47 

"  He's  laid  up  with  lumbago,  sir,  and  can't  walk  a  step,  or 
I  have  no  doubt  he  would." 

"  That's  it,  is  it  ?  Well,  since  the  dog  is  found,  we  needn't 
trouble  ourselves  further.  Come  in  at  once,  and  do  you, 
Cobbe,  go  and  call  the  others  back.  It  must  be  quite  supper 
time." 

"  Well  out  of  the  mess,  Clem,"  whispered  Cressingham  to 
Burton,  as  they  took  their  places  at  the  table,  "  I  never 
remember  a  narrower  escape  than  that '  " 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ANOTHER   NARROW   ESCAPE. 

"  ARE  Jerry  and  O'Toole  going  to  have  their  match  to-day  ?  " 
asked  Temple  of  his  friend  Wright,  as  they  came  out  into 
the  play-ground  after  morning-school  on  the  following  day. 

"  Yes,"  returned  Wright.  "  Maurice  came  back  last  night. 
I  wish  his  uncle  had  chosen  any  other  day  in  the  year, 
rather  than  yesterday  to  come  and  see  him.  Yesterday  would 
have  been  a  prime  day  for  the  match,  bright,  warm,  and  clear. 
To-day  is  dull  and  cloudy,  and  it's  as  likely  as  not  that  it  will 
rain.  I  don't  care  half  so  much  for  the  match  to-day." 

"  That's  lucky,  George,"  said  Temple,  "  because  I  can't  put 
off  returning  this  money  any  longer.  I  didn't  very  much  like 
leaving  it  till  to-day,  but  I  can't  leave  it  till  Monday.  If  you 
want  to  see  the  fun,  you  must  give  up  the  diving  match." 

"  Well,"  said  Wright,  "  I  don't  care  if  I  do.  At  all  events 
we'll  do  your  business  first,  and  then  there  may  be  time  to  get 
down  to  the  beach  and  see  the  end  of  the  match.  As  the 
fellows  are  all  gone,  you'd  better  fall  to  work  at  once." 

"  All  right,"  said  Temple.  "  I'll  fetch  out  the  properties." 
He  went  into  the  house  and  returned  in  a  few  minutes  with 
a  bundle  of  clothes,  which  he  unpacked  in  a  corner  of  the 


Another  Narrow  Escape.  49 

shed.      "  Here  they  are,"  he  said.     "  The  first  question  is, 
where  am  I  to  put  them  on  ?  " 

"  You  can't  do  that  here,  that's  certain,"  said  Winburne. 
"  One  of  the  ushers  might  come  out,  and  if  he  was  to  see  a 
young  woman,  as  he'd  suppose,  putting  on  her  clothes  here  in 
the  shed,  he'd  be  a  good  deal  astonished." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  old  Hepburn's  face,"  said  Wright. 
"  It  would  be  worth  seeing." 

"So  should  I,"  assented  Temple,  "if  the  person  caught 
were  anybody  but  myself.  Well !  if  I'm  not  to  dress  here, 
where  am  I  to  dress  ?  I  can't  get  up  into  my  bed-room —  " 

"  No,  and  if  you  did,  and  Mother  Edwards  chanced  to 
come  upon  you,  it  would  be  rather  worse  for  you,  than  if  old 
Hepburn  caught  you,"  said  Wright.  "  I  think  I  see  her,  if 
she  found  a  gipsy  in  one  of  the  bed-rooms !  She'd  go 
off  into  fits  and  bring  all  the  house  about  her  ears.  No, 
Charlie ;  you  must  go  and  dress  in  the  cart-shed  in  the 
corner  of  the  Doctor's  field.  You  won't  be  troubled  with 
any  visitors  there,  unless  it  happens  to  be  a  cow  or  two." 

"  The  shed  will  do  well  enough,"  said  Temple.  "  But  how 
am  I  to  get  round  there  and  carry  these  clothes  ?  I  can't 
carry  a  bundle  like  this  down  the  road ;  somebody  or  other 
would  see  me." 

"  You'd  better  drop  them  over  the  back  wall,  and  then  go 
round  and  pick  them  up,"  suggested  Winburne. 

"  Yes,"  said  Temple,  "  but  how  am  I  to  get  to  the  back 
wall  ?  There's  the  coal-yard  and  the  servants'  yard.  It  won't 
do  to  go  into  the  servants'  yard.  Even  if  Mother  Edwards 
doesn't  happen  to  be  about,  there's  the  cook  and  Tom  Cobbe. 
Mother  Skinner's  always  grumbling  if  any  of  the  fellows  go  into 


50  Who  did  it? 

the  servants'  offices,  and  Tom  Cobbe  owes  me  one,  which  I 
expect  he  won't  be  slow  to  pay." 

"  Well,  the  coal-yard  then,"  said  Winburne.  "  Why  not  go 
into  that?" 

"  Nep's  tied  up  there,"  said  Temple.  "  The  Doctor  ordered 
his  kennel  to  be  put  there  last  night." 

"Nep  wouldn't  hurt  you,  Charlie,"  said  Wright.  "He 
knows  all  the  fellows,  and  besides  you're  a  particular  friend  of 
his." 

"  That's  just  it,"  said  Temple.  "  He's  been  fastened  up  for 
nearly  two  days,  and  is  mad  to  be  loose.  He'd  think  I  had 
come  to  untie  him,  and  make  such  a  row  that  he'd  bring 
Hepburn  or  Wilkes  out  as  likely  as  not.  No,  that  won't  do  ; 
we  must  contrive  to  carry  these  things  somehow  or  other. 
Look  here.  Here's  this  fishing  basket.  That  will  hold  the 
shawl,  and  the  shoes  and  stockings.  I  can  carry  that  and  my 
fishing-rod,  and  if  any  one  met  me  he'd  think  I  was  going  out 
to  fish." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  Wright,  "  and  here's  my  boating  jacket. 
I  can  wrap  the  gown  in  that,  and  hang  it  over  my  arm.  And 
here,  Winburne,  you  take  these  other  things.  You  can  poke 
the  bonnet  into  the  crown  of  your  hat,  and  we  can  carry  the 
other  things  in  our  pockets." 

"  That  will  do  first-rate,"  observed  Winburne,  "  and  we'd 
better  be  off  as  soon  as  possible.  You  talked  of  Hepburn 
catching  us  just  now,  George  ;  but  that  he  won't  do.  He  has 
gone  out  somewhere  with  Captain  Gurdon.  I  saw  them  go 
out  together  just  after  school  was  up,  but  they  may  only  have 
gone  into  the  town  for  something,  and  will  be  back  again  in 
half-an-hour  or  so.  We'd  better  lose  no  time." 


A  nother  Narrow  Escape.  5 1 

"  Done  with  you,"  said  Temple.  "  We  have  got  all  the 
things,  I  believe.  Let  us  be  off." 

They  hurried  down  the  road  accordingly,  until  they  reached 
the  lane,  which  led  to  Doctor  Thornton's  field,  in  one  corner 
of  which  the  cart-shed  was  situated.  Here  Winburne  remained 
to  assist  in  Charlie's  toilette,  while  Wright  hastened  back  to 
keep  watch  over  the  premises  and  give  Charlie  warning  if  any- 
thing went  wrong.  Presently  Winburne  returned,  and  almost 
immediately  afterwards  Temple  appeared,  in  his  gipsy  attire. 
Knowing,  as  he  did,  his  schoolfellow's  adroitness  in  such 
matters,  he  was  nevertheless  astonished  at  the  completeness 
of  the  illusion. 

"  By  Jove,"  he  exclaimed,  "  Charlie,  you'd  take  in  any  Bow 
Street  runner  in  England.  I  can  hardly  believe  you're  not  a 
regular  gipsy  tramp.  Well,  be  quick.  We've  been  longer 
about  this  than  I  expected.  Come  into  this  corner  here,  Jack. 
Tom  Cobbe's  face  will  be  a  thing  to  see,  but  he  mustn't  catch 
sight  of  us." 

They  niched  themselves  in  a  remote  corner,  while  Charlie 
Temple  proceeded  to  ring  the  house  bell ;  and  after  one  or 
two  pulls,  the  school  servant  made  his  appearance.  He  was 
greatly  scandalized  at  the  appearance  of  the  visitor. 

"  Now  then,  young  woman,"  he  exclaimed,  "  what  is  it  you 
please  to  want  ?  Come  to  beg,  I  suppose,  or  maybe  pick  up 
any  coats,  or  umbrellas,  as  may  happen  to  be  left  in  the  hall. 
The  Doctor  don't  allow  no  tramps  here." 

"If  you  please,  sir,"  said  Charlie  Temple,  dropping  a 
respectful  curtsey  as  he  spoke,  the  execution  of  which  nearly 
sent  the  boys  in  the  corner  into  fits  of  laughter ;  "  if  you  please, 
sir,  I  have  a  letter  here  for  Captain  Gordon." 


52  Who  did  it  f 

"Gurdon,  young  woman,"  corrected  Tom,  sternly;  "you 
should  learn  to  call  people  by  their  right  names,  especially 
when  you  belongs  to  the  lower  walks  of  society." 

"  Gurdon,  sir,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Temple,  humbly, 
and  making  a  second  curtsey.  "  Gurdon,  no  doubt,  it  is,  and 
will  you  be  pleased  to  give  it  into  his  own  hands." 

"  A  letter,  eh,"  said  Tom,  eyeing  the  document  suspiciously. 
"And  there's  something  in  it,  too,"  he  continued,  as  he 
handled  it.  "  You're  sure  there  aint  nothing  wrong  in  it — no 
pison,  no  'splosives — nothing  that  can  harm  a  man." 

"  Nothing  at  all,  I  assure  you,  sir,"  said  Temple,  "  if  you  will 
only  please  to  take  it." 

"Very  well,  young  woman,"  returned  Tom,  loftily,  "you 
don't  'spect  no  answer,  I  suppose." 

"  Oh  no,  sir,"  said  Temple,  "  I  wouldn't  presume  so  far." 

Tom  nodded  approval  of  the  frame  of  mind  which  had 
dictated  the  reply,  and  taking  the  letter  vanished  into  the 
house.  Temple,  on  his  part,  glad  to  be  released,  was  making 
the  best  of  his  way  towards  the  gate,  when  he  found  himself 
suddenly  confronted  with  Captain  Gurdon  and  Mr  Hepburn, 
who  had  just  returned  from  a  visit  to  the  constable's  house. 
The  two  gentlemen  had  had  an  angry  dispute,  on  the  subject 
of  the  adventure  of  the  previous  Wednesday.  Mr  Hepburn 
who  held  the  curacy  of  the  district,  in  which  Gossard's  Heath 
was  included,  had  insisted  upon  it  that  there  were  no  gipsies 
remaining  in  that  neighbourhood.  There  had  been  a  gang  no 
doubt,  he  said,  during  the  spring,  and  the  early  part  of  the 
summer;  and  his  parishioners  had  complained  to  him  of 
depredations  committed  on  their  farm-yards  and  hen-roosts. 
But  the  magistrates  had  cleared  them  off  some  weeks  pre- 


Another  Narrow  Escape.  53 

viously,  and  he  was  certain  that  there  could  be  no  such  family 
as  Captain  Gurdon  had  described  to  him.  The  Captain  on 
his  side  was  equally  positive ;  and  after  one  or  two  passages  of 
arms,  the  combatants  had  agreed  to  refer  the  matter  to 
Bartholomew  Baines,  the  head  -  constable  at  Walescliffe. 
They  had  repaired  together  to  his  residence  as  soon  as  Mr 
Hepburn  was  released  from  his  school  duties  for  the  morning. 
But  the  result  of  the  interview  had  not  been  satisfactory  to 
either  party.  On  the  one  hand  Bartholomew  had  endorsed 
Mr  Hepburn's  statement  that  the  gang  of  gipsies  had  left  the 
neighbourhood  two  months  before,  having  had  good  reason  to 
believe,  that  if  they  remained  much  longer,  very  unpleasant 
consequences  would  ensue.  They  had  gone,  so  far  as  the 
constable  knew,  to  a  distant  part  of  the  county,  and  were  not 
likely  to  return.  On  the  other  hand,  he  couldn't  answer  for 
it  but  what  one  family  might  have  been  left  behind  in  one  of 
the  old  half  ruinous  cottages  on  Gossard's  Heath.  The  pro- 
perty, he  said,  belonged,  as  Mr  Hepburn  knew,  to  a  proprietor 
who  lived  abroad,  and  didn't  trouble  himself  much  about  it. 
People  might  remain  there  for  weeks  without  anybody  know- 
ing it.  If  so  be  as  the  Captain  had  seen  a  girl  who  said  she 
was  living  in  one  of  these  cottages,  he  didn't  see  why  it 
shouldn't  be  true.  Most  likely  it  was  for  the  matter  of  that 
She  must  have  come  from  somewhere,  and  where  else  could 
she  have  come  from  ? 

This  compromise,  like  most  other  compromises,  failed  to 
satisfy  either  of  the  belligerents ;  who,  it  should  be  noted,  were 
old  antagonists,  and  made  a  conscience  of  quarrelling  on  all 
available  occasions.  On  the  way  homewards  the  dispute 
between  them  broke  out  more  sharply  than  before. 


54  Who  did  it? 

"  I  told  you  so,  Gurdon.  I  told  you  the  gipsies  had  all  been 
gone  since  the  last  week  in  June.  I  went  over  and  visited  the 
cottages  myself,  and  couldn't  be  mistaken.  But  you  never 
will " 

"  When  did  you  visit  them  ?  "  asked  the  old  sailor,  gruffly. 

"When?  Why,  about  the  end  of  June  or  beginning  of 
July." 

"  I  daresay  you  did,"  rejoined  the  Captain.  "  Most  likely 
at  that  time  the  man  hadn't  been  taken  ill  with  the  fever,  and 
he  and  his  family  were  sleeping  out,  as  these  people  do,  under 
a  hedge.  It  was  only  when  he  became  ill  that  they  shifted 
into  the  cottage." 

"I  tell  you,"  rejoined  Mr  Hepburn,  angrily,  " I  go  by  those 
cottages  every  week  of  my  life,  and  sometimes  two  or  three 
times  a  week.  Do  you  think  I  shouldn't  find  it  out  in  all 
those  weeks,  if  one  of  them  had  been  inhabited  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  the  Captain,  stoutly.  "  There  would  be 
no  smoke,  because,  as  the  girl  said,  they  couldn't  afford  a  fire, 
and  the  man  and  the  children  being  all  laid  up  ill,  none  of 
them  would  be  about.  Why  shouldn't  the  girl's  story  be  true, 
I  should  like  to  know  ?  Hepburn,  tell  me  that." 

"The  girl's  an  impostor,"  rejoined  Mr  Hepburn,  more 
angrily  than  before,  "  palming  off  a  heap  of  lies,  in  order  to 
wheedle  money  out  of  you — that's  why." 

"  She's  no  more  an  impostor^  than  you  are,  Hepburn,"  re- 
torted Captain  Gurdon,  with  equal  acrimony.  "  I'm  convinced 
she  spoke  nothing  but  the  truth,  and  you  won't  persuade  me 
to  the  contrary." 

"  We  shall  see,  we  shall  see,"  said  Mr  Hepburn.  "  Only 
let  me  come  across  her,  and  I'll  soon  prove  that  you  are 


Anotlier  Narrow  Escape.  55 

wrong,  Captain.  Why,  I  was  over  there  only  yesterday  after- 
noon, and  went  into  all  the  cottages.  There  wasn't  the 
slightest  trace  of  any  one  of  them  having  been  occupied  for 
ever  so  long.  No,  no,  she  was  a  tramp,  who  had  made  up  a 
story  to  get  money  out  of  you.  She  was  off  as  soon  as  she 
got  it,  and  you  may  rely  on  it  we  shall  never  set  eyes  on  her 
again." 

As  he  uttered  these  words  they  were  entering  the  gate  of 
the  Priory,  and  the  first  object  that  presented  itself  to  their 
eyes  was  the  gipsy  girl  herself,  ragged  stockings,  bonnet,  and 
red  shawl,  with  the  discoloured  patch  on  the  shoulder,  just  as 
Captain  Gurdon  had  described  her. 

"  There,"  exclaimed  the  Captain,  triumphantly,  as  his  eye 
lighted  on  her,  "by  Jupiter,  there's  the  girl  herself!  I  told 
her,  if  she  required  further  help,  to  come  here  and  ask  for 
me,  and  so  she  has  done.  What  do  you  say  now,  Hepburn  ?  " 

"What  do  I  say,"  retorted  the  usher,  greatly  provoked  at 
his  unexpected  discomfiture.  "  Why,  I  say  I  shall  make  it  my 
business  to  find  out  who  and  what  she  is.  I  shall  insist  on 
her  being  taken  before  Colonel  Wilder  or  Mr  Wolford  to  give 
an  account  of  herself,  or  be  committed  as  a  rogue  and  vaga- 
bond. That's  what  I  say  ! " 

"  And  I  say  I  won't  suffer  it  to  be  done,"  cried  the  Captain, 
his  face  growing  red  with  anger.  "  She  has  come  up  to  see 
me,  and  by  my  order,  and  I  won't  have  her  meddled  with." 

"You  won't  object  to  my  sending  for  Baines  anyhow,"  said 
Mr  Hepburn,  moderating  his  tone  somewhat  as  he  noticed 
that  Gurdon  was  seriously  angry.  "Stop  there,"  he  added 
suddenly,  as  he  noticed  that  the  gipsy  girl,  who  had  been 
gradually  sidling  towards  the  gate,  was  now  apparently  on  the 


56  Who  did  iff 

point  of  making  a  bolt  for  it.  "Stop  there,  young  woman. 
You  can't  be  allowed  to  steal  off  after  that  fashion  without 
giving  some  account  of  yourself.  If  there  is  nothing  wrong 
about  you,  you  needn't  be  afraid  of  meeting  the  constable. 
Look  here,  Captain  Gurdon,  you,  of  course,  are  as  anxious  as 
I  am  to  find  out  the  truth.  Will  you  go  down  to  Baincs's 
house  and  ask  him  to  come  up  here,  while  I  keep  watch 
over  the  girl." 

"  No,  I  won't,"  growled  the  Captain.  "  If  you  choose  to 
bring  the  man  up  here  I  can't  help  it ;  but  I  think  it's  a  shame 
to  treat  a  respectable  girl  so,  and  I  shan't  stand  by  and  see  it 
done.  When  you  and  Baines  have  done  with  her  she  can 
come  into  the  house  and  speak  to  me."  So  saying  the  Captain 
stalked  off  majestically  and  disappeared  into  the  house. 

Mr  Hepburn  was  in  nowise  disconcerted.  He  glanced 
round  him  in  search  of  some  one  who  might  act  as  his 
messenger,  but  Wright  and  Winburne,  who  had  been  anxious 
spectators  of  the  scene  through  the  cracks  of  the  shed,  kept 
carefully  out  of  sight.  After  a  moment's  thought  Mr  Hepburn 
rang  the  bell  and  summoned  Cobbe,  whom  he  forthwith 
despatched  to  the  constable's  cottage,  while  he  himself,  closing 
the  iron  gate,  stationed  himself  at  it,  so  as  to  prevent  the 
possibility  of  the  prisoner's  escape. 

A  very  interesting  tableau  was  now  presented.  On  one 
side  was  the  usher,  standing  upright  and  stiff  at  the  entrance, 
inflexible  to  all  appearance  as  Rhadamanthus  himself;  on  the 
other  side  were  Winburne  and  Wright,  watching  with  looks  of 
perplexity  and  alarm  the  issue  of  this  strange  adventure.  In 
the  middle  was  Temple  himself,  for  once  in  a  way,  fairly  at 
his  wits'  end.  It  was  plain  he  had  not  been  recognised.  He 


'A    VERY   INTERESTING   TABLEAU. 


Page  56. 


Another  Narrow  Escape.  57 

had,  indeed,  been  so  afraid  of  Tom  Cobbe's  scrutiny  that  he 
had  slouched  the  bonnet  over  the  upper  part  of  his  face,  and 
tied  a  handkerchief  round  his  neck,  which  concealed  his  chin. 
But  it  was  wholly  impossible  that  he  could  stand  a  long 
examination  by  the  constable,  even  if  he  had  known  what  to 
say.  He  was  considering,  whether  it  would  not  be  his  best 
chance  to  make  a  sudden  rush,  scramble  up  the  roof  of  the 
shed,  and  escape,  if  possible,  over  the  wall  and  so  through 
the  back  gate.  He  could  certainly  climb  the  roof  in  question 
if  it  were  not  for  his  gipsy  habiliments ;  and  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  Hepburn,  who  was  as  stiff  in  his  movements  as  a 
poker,  to  follow  him.  But  he  was  more  than  half  afraid,  that 
hampered  as  he  was,  by  his  attire,  he  would  be  unable  to 
make  the  ascent,  in  which  case,  of  course,  it  would  be  all  over 
with  him.  The  time,  however,  was  passing  on,  he  must  do 
something.  He  was  on  the  point  of  making  a  desperate  rush, 
when  suddenly  a  tremendous  uproar  arose  in  the  back-yard. 
Neptune  was  heard  barking  furiously,  and  anon  there  came 
screams  and  cries  for  help,  as  from  some  one  in  mortal  danger. 
At  the  same  time  Winburne  rushed  out,  exclaiming  that  the 
dog  must  have  seized  some  one  and  was  tearing  him  to  pieces. 
"  Help,  help,"  he  exclaimed,  "  he'll  be  murdered." 

"  Ah  !  some  accomplice,"  exclaimed  Mr  Hepburn.  "  Some 
one  hanging  about  to  rob  the  premises,  while  this  girl  engaged 
the  attention  of  the  occupants.  The  dog  must  be  called  off 
though.  He  mustn't  be  allowed  to  kill  the  man."  He  hurried 
into  the  back  court,  where  Nep's  kennel  stood,  followed  by 
Winburne,  with  frightened  and  anxious  looks.  But  on  their 
arrival  they  found  the  blood-hound  the  only  occupant  of  the 
yard.  He  was  evidently  in  a  state  of  great  excitement,  strain- 


58  Who  did  it? 

ing  and  tearing  at  his  chain  ;  while  the  gravel  was  scattered 
about  in  all  directions,  showing  the  marks  of  a  struggle.  But 
the  person,  whoever  he  might  have  been,  whom  Nep  had 
seized,  had  made  his  escape,  probably  over  the  wall  of  the 
yard.  Mr  Hepburn  looked  in  all  directions,  but  the  fugitive 
was  out  of  sight. 

He  turned  somewhat  relieved  to  Winburne.  "  Did  you  see 
the  person,  Winburne?"  he  asked.  "What  was  he  like? 
Was  it  a  man  or  a  woman  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,  I'm  sure,"  said  Winburne,  still  apparently 
a  good  deal  dazed.  "  I  only  heard  the  dog  barking.  I  was 
too  frightened  to  look.  I  thought  the  man  would  certainly 
have  been  torn  limb  from  limb  !" 

"  No  one  would  have  been  to  blame  but  the  person  himself, 
if  he  had  been,"  remarked  Mr  Hepburn,  sententiously.  "  Still 
I  am  glad  that  such  a  casualty  has  been  avoided.  Let  us  go 
back  into  the  play-ground.  Baines  must  be  here  in  a  minute 
or  two  now,  and  we  can  set  him  on  the  track  of  this  intruder. 
By  the  bye,"  he  added  in  an  altered  tone,  as  though  a  thought 
had  suddenly  struck  him,  "  I  shouldn't  wonder  if — " 

He  hurried  back  into  the  play-ground,  and  glanced  hastily 
round  him.  "  What  has  become  of  the  gipsy  girl  ?"  he  cried. 

"  The  girl  who  was  waiting  near  the  play-ground  gate,  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  ago,  do  you  mean  sir?"  asked  Winburne, 
innocently.  "  She  was  standing  there  when  I  came  to  call  you, 
but  she  is  gone  now.  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  she  had  run 
away  while  you  were  in  the  back-yard ! " 

Mr  Hepburn  glanced  hastily  at  the  speaker's  face,  as  though 
some  suspicion  had  crossed  his  mind,  but  Winburne's  features 
exhibited  the  utmost  serenity. 


Another  Narrow  Escape.  59 

"  This  is  most  singular  as  well  as  most  unfortunate,"  he 
said  ;  "  I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  hardly  any  chance  of  lighting 
on  the  girl  again.  And  here  comes  Baines,  just  too  late. 
Baines,  I  am  sorry  to  say  the  girl  has  escaped — escaped  in  the 
most  extraordinary  manner !  While  I  was  keeping  watch  over 
her  here,  some  accomplice  of  hers,  I  suppose,  endeavoured  to 
get  over  the  wall  of  the  back-yard,  and  was  seized  by  the  dog. 
We  went  to  rescue  him,  and  while  we  were  absent,  the  girl 
escaped." 

"  Seized  by  the  dog,  your  Neptune — was  he  sir?"  asked  the 
constable ;  "  then  I  judge  he  has  some  smartish  marks  upon 
him.  He  managed  pretty  well  to  get  away  from  the  blood- 
hound at  all,  but  he  won't  forget  him  in  a  hurry,  that's  sartain ! 
I'll  send  my  men  to  look  round  'em,  and  most  likely  they'll 
catch  'em  both.  The  chap  that  has  been  bit  won't  travel  very 
fast  anyhow.  Meanwhile,  sir,  if  you'll  be  pleased  to  draw  up 
a  full  description  of  this  here  girl — how  she  was  dressed,  and 
what  she  was  to  look  at,  and  send  it  down  to  my  house,  that'll 
be  a  help  to  us  in  looking  after  her."  So  saying  the  constable 
took  himself  off  to  give  instructions  to  his  men. 

"A  description  of  the  girl,"  said  Mr  Hepburn.  "Well,  as 
we  all  three  saw  her — Winburne,  that  is,  Cobbe,  and  myself, 
I  daresay  we  can  do  that.  How  would  you  describe  her, 
Winburne?" 

"  Well,  sir,"  replied  Winburne,  "  I  should  say  she  appeared 
to  me  to  be  a  common  looking  girl  enough — short  and 
stumpy,  with  carrotty  hair,  though  I  couldn't  see  that  very 
clearly  under  her  bonnet.  She  had  an  old  gown  on — I 
don't  recollect  the  colour  of  that,  but  she  had  a  brown 
shawl." 


60  Who  did  it  ? 

"  Short  and  stumpy,  red  hair,  a  brown  shawl ! "  exclaimed 
Mr  Hepburn.  "  You  couldn't  have  looked  at  her,  Winburne. 
She  was  very  thin  and  angular,  if  I  remember  right,  and  her 
hair  was  dark,  unless  I  mistake ;  as  for  her  shawl,  it  was  dis- 
coloured, but  it  was  certainly  red." 

"  I  daresay  you  are  right,  sir,"  said  Winburne,  demurely. 
"  The  truth  is,  I  was  so  alarmed  that  I  hardly  noticed  her." 

"  Well,  that  may  have  been,"  said  the  usher.  "  What  do 
you  say,  Cobbe  ?  Does  your  recollection  support  my  view  or 
MrWinburne's?" 

"  I  takes  no  account  of  that  sort,"  replied  Cobbe,  loftily. 
"  She  was  particklar  saucy  as  they  of  her  station  is  apt  to  be, 
and  was  dressed  as  the  vulgar  generally  are." 

"  Can't  you  remember  the  colour  of  her  eyes  or  hair,  or  of 
the  clothes  she  had  on  ?  "  asked  the  usher. 

"  They  was  very  common  eyes,  and  very  common  hair,  and 
very  common  clothes,  too,"  replied  Tom.  "  I  couldn't  say  no 
more  about  them." 

Mr  Hepburn  gave  a  short  grunt  of  dissatisfaction,  and  find- 
ing no  more  information  was  to  be  obtained,  took  himself  off, 
followed  by  Tom.  Presently  Wright  emerged  from  his  corner, 
and  the  pair  were  shortly  joined  by  Temple,  who  had  resumed 
his  proper  attire,  and  carried  the  fishing  basket  and  coat  with 
the  gipsy  clothes  wrapped  in  them,  one  under  each  arm.  His 
first  care  was  to  replace  the  clothes  in  the  bottom  drawer  of 
his  bureau.  Then  the  three  confederates  betook  themselves 
to  Temple's  study,  where  they  indulged  in  a  hearty  laugh. 

"  How  did  you  contrive  to  make  Nep  bark  in  that  way, 
George  ?  I  really  was  afraid  for  a  moment  that  he  had  seized 
you." 


Another  Narroiv  Escape.  6 1 

"  Nep  will  always  bark  savagely  if  you  hold  a  piece  of  raw 
meat  just  out  of  the  reach  of  his  chain,"  replied  Wright. 
"  There  happened  by  good  luck  to  be  some  bits  that  had  been 
fetched  up  from  the  butcher's  for  bait.  I  did  the  fellow  that 
was  being  murdered  pretty  well,  didn't  I  ?  " 

"  First-rate,"  assented  Winburne.  "  You  frightened  old 
Hepburn  out  of  his  wits  for  a  moment.  Well,  Charlie,  you're 
well  out  of  this.  I  must  say  you're  a  wonderful  fellow  for 
getting  into  scrapes,  and  a  still  more  wonderful  one  for 
getting  out  of  them  again.  I  say,  what  fun  it'll  be  when 
old  Gurdon  reads  your  letter  and  finds  that  the  money 
has  been  returned ! "  How  he'll  crow  over  Hepburn. 
There'll  be  a  worse  row  between  them  than  there  was  this 
afternoon." 

"  Was  there  much  of  a  row  ?  "  asked  Temple. 

"  What !  didn't  you  hear  their  voices  as  they  came  up  the 
lane  ?  "  asked  Wright.  "  I  thought  they  would  have  come  to 
fisticuffs.  Now  Gurdon  will  be  quite  cock-a-hoop.  He'll  be 
wanting  to  find  you  out,  Charlie,  in  order  to  tip  you  five  bob, 
as  a  reward  for  your  honesty." 

"  Perhaps  Charlie  will  indulge  him,"  suggested  Winburne. 
"  He  has  only  to  put  on  his  clothes,  you  know,  again,  and  meet 
the  Captain  in  one  of  his  walks." 

"  He  has  had  enough  of  that,"  said  Wright,  shaking  his 
head.  "  There's  a  proverb  about  the  pitcher  going  oft  to  the 
well.  It  was  uncommon  near  being  smashed  to-day.  Talk- 
ing of  that,  Charlie,  I  wonder  you  brought  those  clothes  back 
to-day.  If  I  had  been  you,  I  should  have  taken  them  straight 
back  to  Mother  Maggots  and  left  them  there." 

"  I  did  take  them  back,"  said  Temple.    "  I  took  them  back 


62  Who  did  it? 

as  soon  as  I  had  changed  my  clothes.  But  I  couldn't 
find  Mother  Maggots.  The  house  was  shut  up." 

"  What !  she  has  made  a  bolt  of  it  ?  "  asked  Wright,  "  and 
taken  your  trousers  with  her,  has  she,  Charlie  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  she  has  done  with  the  trousers," 
answered  Temple,  "but  she  has  gone  herself.  I  knocked 
half-a-dozen  times  at  her  door,  and  then  tried  to  make  my  way 
in  at  the  back ;  but  it  was  no  go.  I  went  and  looked  up  one 
of  the  neighbours,  and  he  told  me  that  Baines  and  his  lot  had 
been  up  to  the  old  lady's  house,  asking  all  sorts  of  questions. 
Hepburn,  I  suppose,  had  put  them  up  to  it.  I  guess  she 
didn't  much  fancy  having  the  constables  hanging  about  the 
house,  and  so  she  had  cleared  off  herself.  I  don't  much 
expect  to  see  her  or  my  white  trousers  again.  But  as  I  told 
you  before,  they  are  no  great  loss.  Mother  Maggots  is  wel- 
come to  them." 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    PISTOL    MATCH. 

SCHOOL  was  just  up ;  the  first-class  boys  were  lounging  about 
in  the  play-ground,  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  the  post  before 
proceeding  to  the  beach.  It  was  unusually  late  that  day,  and 
several  of  the  boys  were  inclined  to  be  discontented  at  the 
delay.  Rawes  and  Dilke  in  particular  grumbled  at  being 
obliged  to  kick  their  heels  on  one  of  the  finest  days  they  had 
had  that  season.  It  had  been  arranged  that  Graves  and  his 
party  were  to  have  the  Betsy  Jane  that  day.  Burton  and  Cress- 
ingham  had  had  it  on  the  last  half- holiday,  and  Temple  and 
his  friends  had  announced  that  they  did  not  want  it.  It  was 
a  glorious  day  for  a  boating  party ;  and  it  had  been  agreed  that 
Graves,  Taunton,  Dilke,  Rawes,  and  Payne  should  row  to 
Crawley  Point,  and  then  sail  back  again.  It  would  not  take 
them  more  than  an  hour  and  a  half,  it  was  reckoned,  and  the 
sail  back  with  the  fine  westerly  breeze  that  was  blowing  would 
be  delicious.  Some  of  the  party  had  tried  to  persuade  Graves 
to  set  off  without  waiting  for  the  post,  but  he  was  anxiously 
expecting  to  hear  the  result  of  his  sister's  application  to  his 
guardian  for  money  to  buy  the  gun  and  pistols,  and  had  briefly 
stated  his  intention  of  staying  for  the  letters.  Jerry  Taunton, 


64  Who  did  it  f 

however,  had  been  sent  on  to  get  everything  in  readiness,  so 
that  as  little  time  as  possible  might  be  sacrificed. 

"Some  accident  must  have  happened  to  the  mail,"  said 
Payne,  when  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  so  had  passed  without  the 
appearance  of  the  school-servant.  "  The  letters  are  sometimes 
late  since  this  new  postman's  appointment,  but  I  have  never 
known  him  so  late  as  this." 

"  He  stops  to  gossip  with  everybody  that  he  meets," 
grumbled  Rawes.  "  Old  Grimes  told  me  he  has  seen  him 
stand  at  a  cottage  door  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  together.  A 
row  ought  to  be  made  about  it.  We  are  just  losing  the  fine 
part  of  the  day.  Jerry  must  have  had  the  boat  ready  this 
quarter  of  an  hour  and  more." 

"  Here  he  is  coming  back  again,"  said  Dilke.  "  He  has 
come  back  to  know  what  has  become  of  us,  I  suppose.  Well, 
Jerry,  is  the  Betsy  all  right  ?  This  brute  of  a  postman  hasn't 
come  yet  We  can't  go  till  he  has  come." 

"  It  doesn't  much  matter  whether  he  comes  soon  or  late," 
returned  Taunton.  "  I'm  sorry  to  say  we  can't  have  the  Betsy" 

"  Why  not  ?  "  exclaimed  half-a-dozen  voices. 

"She's  gone  out,  and  young  James  Gunn  in  her — that's 
why,"  returned  Taunton. 

"What  an  abominable  shame,"  exclaimed  Rawes.  "  It  was 
a  clear  understanding  that  we  were  to  have  her  on  half-holi- 
days. A  row  ought  to  be  made  about  this." 

"  Well,  old  Gunn's  very  sorry,"  said  Taunton.  "  I  must  say 
it  isn't  his  fault,  nor  yet  young  James's  either.  There's  an 
officer  come  down  from  London  to  make  some  inquiries  at 
Curlew,  and  he  insisted  upon  having  the  Betsy  Jane.  Gunn 
says  he  couldn't  have  refused  him." 


The  Pistol  Match.  65 

"  An  officer  from  London !  "  said  Graves.  "  What !  sent 
down  by  the  Government,  I  suppose  ?  No,  old  Gunn's  right ; 
he  couldn't  have  refused  that.  What  has  he  come  down  for  ? 
Did  Gunn  tell  you  that,  Jerry  ?  " 

"  He's  going  to  inquire  into  that  business  about  the  gipsy 
girl,  I  fancy,"  said  Payne,  "  which  there  has  been  all  this  blow- 
up about  for  the  last  three  or  four  days.  Hepburn  has  written 
up  to  London,  I  expect.  Isn't  that  it,  Jerry?" 

"  No,  that's  not  it,"  said  Taunton ;  "  they  wouldn't  send  an 
officer  down  from  London  about  such  rubbish  as  that.  No, 
it's  about  two  fellows  that  have  escaped  from  Curlew — " 

"  Curlew  ! "  exclaimed  Cressingham,  who  with  Burton  and 
O'Toole  had  just  entered  the  play-ground.  "  Convicts,  I 
suppose  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Taunton,  "  they  were  not  convicts.  I 
fancied  that  when  I  first  heard  it ;  but  they  were  man  o'  war's 
men.  They  had  deserted  from  the  Enterprise,  which  was  lying 
in  Curlew  Roads  just  ready  to  join  Lord  Exmouth's  squadron. 
The  Enterprise  was  on  the  very  point  of  sailing,  in  fact  she  has 
sailed  now ;  sailed  the  day  after  these  fellows  got  off." 

"  How  could  they  have  contrived  to  escape  ?  "  said  Graves. 
"  I  should  have  thought  it  quite  impossible.  The  whole  coast 
opposite  the  island  is  guarded  by  sentinels  to  prevent  the  con- 
victs from  getting  away,  and  they  would  have  stopped  any  one 
who  attempted  to  pass." 

"  They've  made  a  swim  for  it  and  got  to  Haverport,"  sug- 
gested O'Toole. 

"  Haverport,  Maurice,"  repeated  Graves.  "  You  don't  know 
the  coast,  I  fancy,  or  you  wouldn't  suppose  that.  The  current 
runs  so  sharp  to  the  east,  that  the  strongest  swimmer  couldn't 


66  Who  did  it? 

make  head  against  it.  No,  if  they  swam  for  it,  it  must  have 
been  the  other  way." 

"  What,  our  way  ?  "  said  Dilke.  "  That  might  be,  but  then 
there  is  no  landing  place  between  us  and  Curlew.  The  cliffs 
are  so  steep  the  whole  way  along  that  a  fellow  couldn't  climb 
them  without  help  from  above.  There's  no  place  at  which 
they  could  land  before  Walescliff." 

"  And  they  couldn't  have  landed  there,  because  the  coast- 
guard fellows  must  have  seen  them,"  added  Payne. 

"  No,  it's  a  dead  puzzle  to  every  one,"  said  Taunton,  "  how 
they  did  contrive  to  get  off.  This  officer  chap,  whoever  he  is, 
has  been  examining  a  lot  of  fellows  in  Walescliff.  That's  what 
made  him  come  here,  instead  of  going  to  Horncombe  by  the 
mail.  But  he  could  find  out  nothing." 

"  Do  you  know  why  they  deserted  ?  "  asked  Burton. 

"  Simply  because  they  didn't  like  to  serve,  I  believe,"  said 
Taunton.  "  Old  Gunn  said  they  were  pressed  men,  who  had 
been  brought  on  board  only  two  days  before,  and  next  to 
nothing  was  known  about  them." 

"  Here  are  the  letters  at  last,"  exclaimed  Graves,  as  Tom 
Cobbe  made  his  appearance  with  the  bag  in  his  hand.  "  Do 
you  know  what  has  made  the  post  so  late  to-day  ?  " 

"The  post  is  not  in  my  department,  Mr  Graves,"  said 
Cobbe.  "  But  there  has  been  a  good  deal,  I  am  informed,  to 
occupy  the  postman  this  morning." 

"  That's  to  say  he  has  been  chattering  and  gossiping  with 
everybody  he  met  about  these  fellows  who  have  made  their 
escape,  I  suppose,"  suggested  Dilke.  "  Well,  Tom,  who  are 
the  letters  for  ?  Is  there  one  for  Mr  Graves  ?  " 

"  There  are  but  eight  letters  this  morning,  Mr  Dilke.     Two 


The  Pistol  Match.  67 

of  them  for  the  Doctor,  two  for  Mr  Hepburn,  one  for  Mr 
Burton,  one  for  Mr  Taunton,  one  for  Mr  Field,  and  one  for 
Mr  Graves." 

"  Why  couldn't  you  give  it  him  before,  stupid  ! "  cried  Dilke, 
impetuously.  "  That's  the  letter  we've  been  waiting  for." 

"  Not  to  notice  your  language,  Mr  Dilke,"  returned  Tom, 
with  dignified  serenity,  "  it  is  not  my  office  to  deliver  the 
letters  permiscusly,  but  according  to  fixed  rules — the  Doctor's 
first,  as  is  befitting,  the  usher's  next,  and  then  the  young 
gentlemen  in  the  order  of  their  alphabets." 

"  What,  Taunton  before  Graves,  hey,  Tom?"  asked  Temple, 
laughing.  "  Is  that  the  order  of  their  alphabets  ?  " 

Somewhat  discomposed,  Tom  muttered  something  about 
exceptions  to  all  rules,  and  made  a  hasty  retreat,  while  Graves, 
having  glanced  rapidly  through  his  letter,  tossed  it  aside. 

"  We  needn't  have  waited  for  this,"  he  said.  "Clara  only 
writes  to  say  my  guardian  has  been  absent,  but  is  returning 
immediately,  and  she  will  speak  to  him  as  soon  as  he  arrives. 
Let  us  be  off  at  once." 

The  others  assenting,  the  whole  throng  moved  off  to  the 
shore,  leaving  no  one  in  the  play-ground  but  Burton  and 
Cressingham — the  former  occupied  in  the  perusal  of  his  letter, 
which  seemed  to  interest  him  greatly,  though  it  only  contained 
a  few  lines. 

Cressingham  waited  until  he  saw  his  friend  fold  the  letter 
up  and  put  it  into  his  pocket,  then  he  addressed  him. 

"What  do  you  intend  doing  this  afternoon,  Clem?"  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  much.  Suppose  we  go  down  to  the 
beach  and  join  the  other  fellows." 

"  I've  no  objection.     Perhaps  we_may  pick  up  some  infor- 


68  Who  did  it? 

mation  about  those  two  fellows  we  took  off  the  Quoits.  By 
the  bye,  isn't  it  rather  strange  we've  heard  nothing  from  George 
Alford  about  them  ?  " 

"  The  letter  I  got  just  now  is  from  George,"  replied  Burton. 
"  But  he  says  very  little  about  the  two  men— only  that  they 
had  brought  the  boating  jackets  and  your  handkerchief  to  him, 
and  that  he  would  forward  them  to  us  as  soon  as  he  had  an 
opportunity.  He  only  writes  a  sentence  or  two,  because,  as 
he  says,  he's  going  to  send  a  long  letter  almost  immediately. 
But  come,  let  us  be  off." 

They  left  the  school  precincts  accordingly,  and  found,  as 
they  expected,  their  companions  consulting  as  to  how  they 
should  employ  the  afternoon.  But  Cressingham  noticed  that, 
with  the  exception  of  Temple  himself,  no  one  of  the  particular 
set  to  which  he  belonged,  and  of  which  he  was  accounted  the 
leader,  was  present. 

"  Where  are  Wright  and  Winburne  and  Hibbert  ?  "  he  asked 
of  Field,  who  happened  to  be  standing  near  him. 

"  Oh,  they  have  gone  off  because  they  are  savage  with 
Graves,"  answered  Field. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Cressingham. 

"  Didn't  you  see  the  row  there  was  in  the  play-ground  just 
after  school  ?  "  asked  Field. 

"  No,  I  was  with  Burton  and  O'Toole  in  the  schoolroom 
finishing  the  Juvenal.  What  was  it  about,  and  with 
whom?" 

"  It  was  with  young  Hibbert  and  young  Warner,"  replied 
Field.  "  They'd  laid  a  wager  about  the  time  which  it  would 
take  to  run  from  the  play-ground  gate  to  the  poplars.  The 
distance,  I  should  suppose,  is  somewhere  about  a  hundred  and 


The  Pistol  Match.  69 

twenty  yards.  I've  never  measured  it,  but  I  should  put  it  at 
that." 

"  You  are  not  much  out,  I  judge,"  said  Cressingham,  "go  on." 

"Young  Hibbert  declared  he  could  run  it  in  half  a 
minute.  Warner  offered  to  bet  him  sixpence  he  couldn't. 
Some  fellows  were  appointed  umpires,  and  the  start  was  just 
going  to  take  place,  when  they  found  that  none  of  them  had 
a  watch  with  a  second  hand.  They  went  about  asking  fellows 
for  one,  and  presently  it  was  discovered  that  no  one  but  Graves 
had  the  article  in  question." 

"  Graves  never  will  lend  his  watch,"  said  Cressingham. 
"  Every  one  knows  that." 

"  Charlie  Hibbert  didn't,"  rejoined  Field,  "  or  pretended  he 
didn't.  He  went  up  to  Graves,  who  was  refastening  the  tassel 
of  that  whalebone  of  his,  and  asked  him  for  it.  Graves 
answered  shortly  that  he  wouldn't  lend  it.  Charlie's  back  was 
put  up,  I  suppose,  at  Graves's  manner,  or  perhaps  he  thought 
that  as  the  brother  of  a  first-class  boy,  he  might  take  liberties. 
He  went  back  to  Warner  and  the  others  and  said  loud  enough 
for  Graves  to  hear  him :  '  The  sulky  brute  won't  let  us 
have  it.' " 

"  The  plague  he  did  ! "  rejoined  Cressingham.  "  And  Graves 
was  standing  by,  with  his  whalebone  ready  in  his  hand,  was 
he  ?  That  was  not  wise  of  Charlie  Hibbert,  I  must  say  !  " 

"True  for  you,  my  lad,"  cried  O'Toole,  who  had  been 
standing  by,  listening  to  the  conversation.  "  I  guess  Charlie 
thought  so  himself  a  minute  or  two  afterwards  ;  for  Stephen 
grabbed  his  collar  with  one  hand  and  the  whalebone  with  the 
other,  and  laid  into  him  for  the  dear  life,  till  he  howled 
again  ! " 


70  WJto  did  it  f 

"He  might  have  expected  it,  I  must  say,"  observed 
Cressingham. 

"  He  deserved  a  sharp  cut  or  two,  I  allow,"  said  Field,  "  but 
not  such  a  savage  leathering  as  Graves  gave  him.  And  he 
might  have  listened  to  Tom  Hibbert,  who  ran  up  as  soon  as 
he  heard  of  it  and  remonstrated,  saying  his  brother  would  beg 
pardon.  But  Graves  wouldn't  listen,  and  it  got  so  bad  that 
Tom  Hibbert  and  Winburne  tried  to  catch  hold  of  the 
whalebone." 

"  So  they  did,"  said  O'Toole,  "  and  they  did  catch  it  too, 
but  not  in  the  way  they  wanted.  Sure  and  it  was  lucky  for 
them  that  Wilkes  came  out  into  the  play-ground,  or  they'd 
have  been  like  the  Kilkenny  cats — nothing  but  their  tails 
left ! " 

"  I  wonder  Temple  didn't  interfere,"  observed  Field. 

" Temple  was  with  the  Doctor,"  said  O'Toole.  "I  judge 
he  doesn't  know  anything  about  it  now,  or  he'd  have  gone  off 
with  Wright  and  Winburne." 

"  He  couldn't  have  done  anything  but  ask  Graves  to  stop, 
or  have  referred  the  matter  to  the  Doctor,"  said  Cressingham. 
"  I  am  afraid  Temple  and  his  set  will  be  very  sore  about  this 
though." 

"  Ye  may  say  that,"  assented  O'Toole.  "  Jack  Winburne's 
shoulders  and  Tom  Hibbert's  fingers  will  be  sore  enough,  ye 
may  be  sure.  Jack  won't  lie  on  his  back,  and  Tom  wont 
write  to  his  friends  this  week  to  come,  I'll  go  bail  for  it!  But 
won't  we  do  something  ?  Won't  we  play  rounders,  Burton  ?  " 

"Rounders,"  repeated  Burton.  "Well,  there  is  a  stretch 
of  sand  sufficient  for  that  at  this  moment,  no  doubt.  But  the 
tide's  coming  in,  and  in  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  or  an  hour 


TJie  Pistol  Match.  7 1 

at  farthest,  we  should  be  obliged  to  stop.     Don't  you  think 
so,  Temple?" 

"  There'd  be  time  for  a  good  game  now,"  said  Temple,  "  if 
we  had  the  bats  and  balls  down  here.  But  that  we  haven't, 
and  it  would  take  twenty  minutes  to  fetch  them.  But  how 
about  a  paper  chase  along  the  shore  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  there'd  be  time  for  that  either,"  said  Burton. 
"  There's  the  same  objection  as  there  was  to  the  game  of 
rounders.  We  should  be  able  to  get  round  Cockle  Head,  and 
as  far  as  Hanger's  Cave,  no  doubt.  But  we  shouldn't  be  able 
to  get  back  again  round  the  Head  if  we  stayed  any  time." 

"Well,  let's  do  something  at  all  events,"  said  Taunton. 
"  This  is  desperately  dull  work.  Let's  have  a  cock-shy. 
That  is  better  than  nothing."  He  picked  up  a  ginger-beer 
bottle,  which  was  lying  among  the  shingle,  the  souvenir  of 
some  picnic  held  on  the  sands,  and  was  proceeding  to  set  it 
up  on  a  flat  rock  at  a  little  distance,  when  an  addition  to  the 
party  appeared  in  the  person  of  Nep,  who  came  bounding 
down  the  lane  leading  from  Holmwood,  followed  by  Tom 
Cobbe,  who,  like  "  panting  "  Time  in  Johnson's  panegyric  on 
Shakespeare,  "  toiled  after  him  in  vain."  The  dog,  which  had 
been  tied  up  ever  since  the  day  of  Burton  and  Cressingham's 
expedition  to  Deadman's  Point,  had  been  unchained,  by  Mrs 
Thornton's  order,  for  a  short  run,  and  had  made  use  of  his 
liberty  to  follow  the  boys  to  the  beach.  He  came  bounding 
down  in  wild  spirits,  and  sprang  upon  Graves,  who  was  just 
stooping  to  pick  up  a  stone.  Graves's  coat  was  covered  with 
sand,  and  he,  himself,  was  very  near  measuring  his  length  on 
the  ground.  He  got  up  in  great  wrath,  and  struck  the  dog  a 
sharp  cut  with  his  whalebone.  Nep,  unused  to  this  treat- 


72  Who  did  it? 

ment,  growled  fiercely,  and  showed  a  formidable  range  of 
teeth. 

"  Ye'd  better  mind  what  ye're  at,"  exclaimed  O'Toole.  "If 
he  catches  a  grip  of  ye,  ye  may  send  straight  to  the  under- 
taker for  your  coffin.  By  the  elevens,  those  teeth  of  his  would 
grind  ye  up  like  coffee  in  a  mill." 

" The  brute  had  better  keep  clear  of  me"  returned  Graves, 
who  seemed  no  way  daunted.  "If  he  were  to  spring  on  me 
with  his  teeth,  I  should  be  the  last  fellow  that  he  ever  would 
spring  on." 

"  You  mean  that  the  Doctor  would  interfere  for  the  pro- 
tection of  his  young  gentlemen?"  said  Cobbe,  who  had 
now  come  up.  "Well,  no  doubt  we  should  all  do  our 
duty." 

"  I  don't  want  any  one  to  protect  me,"  broke  in  Graves 
angrily.  "  I  would  put  a  stopper,  and  that  pretty  soon,  on  the 
brute,  myself." 

"  Ye  would  ?  "  cried  O'Toole,  "  and  how  would  ye  manage 
that,  my  boy  ?  " 

"  I  should  put  a  pistol  bullet  through  his  head,"  answered 
Graves. 

"  A  pistol  bullet,"  remonstrated  the  Irishman.  "  Sure  and 
ye  wouldn't  hurt  poor  Nep,  the  darling !  There  he  goes,  as 
quiet  as  a  lamb,"  he  continued,  as  Cobbe,  who  had  now  suc- 
ceeded in  buckling  the  collar  round  his  neck,  led  him  off 
towards  Holmwood.  "  There  he  goes  for  a  fine  fellow,  as  he 
is  !  Sorra  a  one  would  hurt  him,  to  be  sure !  " 

"  I  wouldn't  hurt  him  unless  he  tried  to  hurt  me,"  remarked 
Graves,  with  the  same  coolness  as  before ;  "  but  if  he  did,  I'd 
show  him  small  mercy.  But  come  along,  Maurice,  Jerry ; 


The  Pistol  Match,  73 

come  along,  this  cock-shy  will  be  as  good  fun  as  anything  else. 
We'll  take  a  turn  at  it  all  round." 

The  boys  readily  assented,  being  in  the  idle  humour,  when 
anything  diverts  them.  Half-a-dozen  of  the  first-class  entered 
for  the  contest.  Each  picked  up  his  pebbles,  and  took  his 
shot  in  turn.  But  the  bottle  was  a  small  one  and  was  placed 
at  a  considerable  distance,  and  it  was  agreed  at  last  that  they 
must  move  nearer  to  it.  Then  Temple  proved  the  victor,  his 
second  stone  knocking  a  bit  off  the  rim  at  the  top,  and  his 
third  shattering  it  to  fragments. 

"  Well  done,  Charlie,"  said  O'Toole ;  "  You're  the  boy  for 
my  money.  I'd  like  to  see  ye  throw  for  hot  potatoes  at  Ballin- 
asloe  Fair.  Ye'd  soon  earn  your  supper." 

"  It's  rather  slow  work  shying  pebbles,"  remarked  Rawes, 
who  was  annoyed  at  Temple's  success.  "  It  would  be  some 
fun  shooting  at  one  of  these  bottles  with  pistols.  You'd  soon 
do  for  Temple  at  that,  Stephen,  I  expect." 

"  How  do  ye  know  that  ?  "  asked  Maurice.  "  Why  wouldn't 
Charlie  shoot  with  a  pistol  as  well  as  he  throws  with  a  pebble  ?" 

"  Only  that  he  can't,"  returned  Rawes,  carelessly.  "  Stephen 
is  a  first-rate  shot,  and  Temple  can't  shoot  at  all." 

"  Can't  I,  indeed,  Rawes?"  asked  Temple,  sharply.  "  What 
do  you  know  about  my  shooting?" 

"  I  don't  know  anything,"  answered  Rawes,  "for  the  best  of 
all  reasons,  because  there's  nothing  to  know." 

"  Did  ye  ever  see  him  shoot  with  a  pistol  ?  "  asked  O'Toole. 

"  No,"  answered  Rawes,  "  nor  anybody  else  either." 

"  Ye're  just  out  there,  then,  my  boy,"  rejoined  the  Irishman ; 
"for  I've  seen  him  shoot.  It  was  one  day  last  autumn,  when  we 
went  over  to  see  Mr  Carrington  at  Horncombe.  Mr  Carring- 


74  WJto  did  it  ? 

ton  took  us  out  with  him,  and  Charlie  shot  first-rate.  He 
shot  a  hare  and  two  brace  of  partridges." 

"  What,  with  a  pistol,  Maurice  ?  "  asked  Taunton.  "  Charlie 
must  be  a  first-rate  shot,  indeed,  to  shoot  partridges  with 
pistols." 

"  Bother,  now,"  said  O'Toole,  "  it  was  with  a  gun,  so  it  was ; 
but  where's  the  difference  ?  Ye  wouldn't  tell  me  that  he  could 
shoot  like  that  with  a  gun,  and  miss  with  a  pistol.  '  Omne 
majus  continet  in  se  minus,'  as  Hepburn's  for  ever  saying." 

There  was  a  general  laugh,  which  somewhat  inflamed  the 
Irishman's  choler.  "  Ah  !  ye  may  laugh,"  he  said ;  "  but  let 
them  laugh  that  win.  I'd  back  Charlie  for  a  guinea — if  I  had 
one — against  you,  Dick  Rawes,  or  any  of  your  friends  either." 

"  If  you  backed  him  against  Graves,  you'd  lose  your  money, 
that  would  be  all,"  retorted  Rawes.  "  It's  a  pity  you  haven't 
a  guinea,  or  I'd  take  the  wager  with  you." 

O'Toole,  who  was  beginning  to  wax  wroth,  would  have  made 
an  angry  rejoinder,  but  Temple  interposed.  "  You  had  better 
not  back  me  against  Graves,  Maurice,"  he  said,  "  for  I  have  no 
doubt  you  would  lose  your  money.  At  the  same  time,  Rawes, 
let  me  tell  you  you're  talking  at  random,  rather.  I  don't  know 
whether  you  or  anyone  else  may  have  seen  me  shoot  with  a 
pistol,  and  I  don't  care  either ;  but  I  have  shot  with  one  never- 
theless. I  don't  profess  to  be  a  crack  shot,  but  I'll  undertake 
to  hit  a  ginger-beer  bottle,  such  as  we  were  shying  at,  at  the  dis- 
tance of  a  dozen  yards,  certainly  once  in  six  times." 

"  Once  in  six  times,"  repeated  Rawes  contemptuously ; 
"first-rate  shooting  that,  to  be  sure.  Why,  here's  Stephen, 
who'd  be  safe  to  hit  it  five  times  in  six,  and  probably  the  sixth 
time  also." 


TJie  Pistol  Match.  75 

"  I  beg  leave  to  say  I  doubt  that,"  said  Temple. 

"  Very  likely ;  but  your  doubts  don't  go  for  much.  What  do 
you  say  yourself,  Steve?"  he  continued,  turning  to  Graves, 
who  had  stood  by  amusing  himself  by  drawing  figures  on  the 
sand  with  his  whalebone.  "  Couldn't  you  have  hit  the  ginger- 
beer  bottle  that  we  smashed  just  now.  Couldn't  you  have  hit 
it  at  twelve  yards  with  a  pistol" 

"  Well,  yes,"  answered  Graves,  indifferently.  "  A  fellow 
could  hardly  miss  it  at  that  distance,  I  should  think." 

"  Ye  couldn't,"  cried  O'Toole.  "  I'd  just  like  to  see  ye  do 
it,  my  boy.  Can't  we  get  a  pistol  now  from  anywhere,  and  see 
him  do  it  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Taunton.  "  We  could  get  a  pistol  if  we 
wanted  one.  Old  Grimes  has  a  pair  hanging  over  his  mantel- 
piece. I  make  no  doubt  he'd  lend  them." 

"  Hooroo !  that's  the  time  of  day,"  shouted  Maurice. 
"  We'll  be  off  and  borrow  them.  It  isn't  above  a  mile,  the 
short  way  to  Grimes's.  We'll  be  back  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 
Jerry,  my  lad,  ye'll  come  with  me,  won't  ye?  Tis  you  that 
are  the  boy  to  blarney  Grimes,  and  no  one  else." 

"  I've  no  objection,"  said  Taunton,  laughing.  "  He's  a 
good-natured  old  chap  is  Grimes.  I  don't  know  that  it  would 
require  much  blarney  to  persuade  him  to  lend  the  pistols." 

The  two  boys  were  on  the  point  of  setting  out  when  Burton 
interposed.  "  You  don't  really  mean  to  shoot  this  match,  do 
you  ?  "  he  asked,  looking  at  Graves  and  Temple.  Neither  of 
the  boys  addressed  made  any  answer,  but  O'Toole  broke  in. 

"  Why  wouldn't  they  shoot  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Why  ?  "  repeated  Burton.  "  Because  it's  dead  in  the  teeth 
of  the  rules  of  the  school.  It  is  most  strictly  forbidden  to  use 


76  Who  did  it? 

guns  or  pistols.  There  was  a  great  row  three  or  four  years 
ago,  soon  after  I  came,  when  some  fellows  merely  went  to  a 
shooting-match,  but  didn't  take  any  part  in  it  themselves." 

"  Ye  are  not  asked  to  shoot,"  said  O'Toole,  "  and  ye  needn't 
stop  and  see  it  if  ye  don't  like  it." 

"  I  know  that,  Maurice,"  said  Burton.  "  But  it's  the  busi- 
ness of  the  seniors  to  prevent  the  rules  being  broken." 

"  The  seniors,"  repeated  O'Toole.  "  Be  easy,  now.  If  you 
and  Fred  Cressingham,  there,  are  seniors,  so  are  Charlie  and 
Steve,  too.  Ye  can't  come  the  senior  over  them." 

"  I  know  that,  O'Toole,"  said  Burton.  "  I  have  no  wish  to 
meddle  with  them.  But  they  didn't  propose  this,  and  I  don't 
suppose  they  will  agree  to  have  anything  to  do  with  it." 

The  remark  was  not  judicious.  Temple  coloured  slightly, 
but  said  nothing.  Graves  observed  coldly :  "  You  need  not 
trouble  yourself  about  me,  Burton.  I  don't  particularly  care 
about  this  match ;  but  unless  Temple  declines  it,  I  shall  be 
ready  to  shoot  it." 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  should  decline  it,  I'm  sure,"  said 
Temple.  "  If  you  choose  to  bring  the  pistols  here,  I,  too,  am 
ready  to  make  the  trial." 

"  That's  all  right,  then,"  said  Taunton,  who,  like  many  of  the 
others  present,  wanted  to  see  the  match  shot — in  the  first  place, 
for  the  fun  of  the  thing,  and  in  the  second,  in  order  to  thwart 
Burton  and  Cressingham,  with  whom  he  had  the  same  kind  of 
smouldering  feud  which  a  scampish  boy  usually  has  with  an 
orderly  one.  "  Come  along,  Maurice.  If  you  fellows  will  find 
a  bottle — there's  a  lot  scattered  about  on  the  shore  here, — and 
mark  out  the  distance,  we  shall  be  back  almost  as  soon  as  you 
are  ready  for  us." 


The  Pistol  Match.  77 

"  We  had  better  come  away,  Clem,"  said  Cressingham. 
"  We  can't  prevent  this,  of  course,  but  we  will  take  no  part  in 
it.  Let's  walk  up  to  Spurling  Farm.  I  want  to  see  whether 
they've  begun  the  harvest  in  Dobson's  wheat-field." 

The  two  seniors  moved  off,  and  the  others  spread  themselves 
over  the  beach  in  search  of  ginger-beer  bottles.  Half-a-dozen 
were  soon  found.  One  of  them  was  chosen,  and  firmly  fixed 
on  a  flat  shelf  of  rock.  Presently  Taunton  and  O'Toole  re- 
turned with  a  pistol-case  and  a  bag  of  bullets. 

"  Now  then,  Temple,"  said  Graves,  when  Rawes  had  loaded 
one  of  the  pistols  and  handed  it  to  him,  "  do  you  wish  to  shoot 
first,  or  leave  that  to  me  ?  " 

"  You  had  better  take  your  shots  first,"  answered  Temple. 
"  You  are  to  hit  it  five  times  out  of  six,  you  know.  When  that 
has  been  done  I  will  take  my  six  shots,  and  see  whether  I  can 
hit  it  once  or  twice,  as  I  engaged  to  do.  Only,"  he  added,  look- 
ing round  him,  "I  doubt  whether  there'll  be  bottles  enough." 

"  There's  plenty  more,"  said  Dilke,  "  if  we  should  want 
them.  But  here  are  the  six  that  Steve  will  smash,  and  they 
may  be  enough  after  all"  Temple  coloured,  as  he  was  apt  to 
do,  when  he  felt  annoyed,  but  he  made  no  reply.  Graves  took 
the  pistol  from  Rawes,  stepped  up  to  the  line  that  had  been 
marked  on  the  sand,  levelled,  and  drew  the  trigger.  The  ball 
missed  the  mark,  but  where  it  went  no  one  could  see.  There 
was  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  for  everyone -had  expected  to 
see  the  neck  of  the  bottle  fly  off. 

Graves  himself  looked  annoyed.  "  Load  the  other  pistol, 
Dick,"  he  said,  "  but  don't  put  in  quite  so  much  powder.  I 
pointed  straight  enough.  I  suppose  the  pistol  must  have 
thrown  up  a  little." 


78  Who  did  it  ? 

Rawes  obeyed  in  silence,  and  handed  him  the  second  pistol. 
Graves  now  aimed  with  greater  care  than  before,  but  he  had 
no  better  success.  This  time  the  ball  struck  a  fragment  from 
the  rock  at  a  place  at  least  two  feet  wide  of  the  mark. 

Graves  threw  down  the  pistol  with  an  angry  exclamation. 
"  These  pistols  can't  be  true,"  he  cried.  "  I  shan't  shoot  with 
them  any  more.  You  had  better  take  them  back  to  Grimes  ; 
they  are  no  good  at  all." 

"  Stop  a  bit,"  interposed  O'Toole,  as  Taunton  was  about  to 
comply.  "  It's  Charlie's  turn  now.  Ye  can  but  miss,  Charlie," 
he  added  in  an  undertone  to  Temple,  "  and  ye'll  be  no  worse 
than  him  if  ye  do.  I'll  load  for  ye.  The  sight's  true  enough," 
he  whispered.  "  Point  straight,  and  it'll  be  all  right." 

Temple  took  the  pistol,  levelled  carefully,  and  fired.  A 
shout  of  acclamation  was  raised  as  the  ginger- beer  bottle  flew 
into  shivers. 

"  What  an  abominable  piece  of  luck,"  exclaimed  Rawes. 

There  was  a  general  murmur  of  indignation. 

"  Luck,  is  it  ?  Is  it  luck,  ye  call  it  ?  "  cried  O'Toole.  "  Will 
Graves  himself  says  that  it's  luck?" 

"  No,"  answered  Graves  quietly.  "  It  was  not  luck,  Maurice. 
But  I'll  tell  you  what  it  was.  It  was  that  you  found  out  what 
Dick  Rawes  didn't — that  the  bullets  didn't  fit  the  pistols.  I 
suspected  that  after  the  second  shot,  and  so  did  you,  for  I  saw 
you  wrap  the  bullet  in  a  piece  of  paper  before  you  rammed  it 
down." 

"  In  a  bit  of  paper,"  repeated  Maurice.  "  Murder  !  didn't 
Dick  do  the  same  ?  Sure  it  would  have  rattled  in  the  barrel 
like  a  pea  in  a  pea-shooter !  You'd  better  load  yourself, 
Stephen,  and  we'll  put  up  another  bottle  for  you — though,  to 
be  sure,  ye  won't  mend  Charlie's  shot." 


The  Pistol  Match.  79 

"  No,"  said  Graves,  "  I  don't  mean  to  shoot  with  these  pis- 
tols any  more.  I  think  I  was  foolish  in  undertaking  to  shoot 
a  match  with  pistols,  of  which  I  didn't  know  anything.  But  I 
tell  you  what :  I'll  undertake  to  shoot  this  match  as  we  origi- 
nally agreed — hitting  a  bottle  at  this  distance — that  is  to  say, 
five  times  in  six.  If  I  don't  do  that,  and  Temple  hits  it  twice 
in  his  six  shots,  he  wins.  If  I  do  hit  it  the  five  times,  and  he 
makes  more  than  four  misses,  he  loses.  Both  parties  to  pro- 
vide their  own  pistols.  Do  you  agree  to  that,  Temple  ?  " 

"  I  don't  want  to  have  anything  more  to  do  with  it,"  said 
Temple.  "  I  didn't  wish  it  at  first,  but  you  fellows  wanted  it." 

"  We  fellows  want  it  now,"  said  Rawes,  "  and  it  will  be  most 
unfair — " 

"  I'm  not  going  to  do  anything  unfair,"  interrupted  Temple. 
"  I'll  shoot  the  match,  only  it  must  be  shot  some  day  this  week 
or  next.  I  expect  I  shall  be  sent  for  home  in  the  week  after 
next,  and  don't  know  what  may  be  settled  then  about  my 
return." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Graves.  "  This  is  Wednesday,  August 
9th ;  suppose  we  say  Friday,  the  i8th." 

"  Better  say  Saturday,"  said  Taunton.  "  Hepburn  always 
goes  over  to  his  parish  on  Saturday,  or  is  engaged  in  writing 
his  sermon.  He  is  the  only  one  at  all  likely  to  catch  us." 

"  Saturday  be  it,"  said  Graves  indifferently.  "  Indeed  that 
will  be  better,  as  it  will  give  one  day  more." 


CHAPTER    VI. 

A   RETROSPECT. 

"  WHAT  a  pity  it  is  Charlie  Temple  lets  those  fellows  lead  him 
by  the  nose,"  said  Cressingham,  as  the  friends  trudged  along 
the  lane  towards  Spurling  Village.  "  He's  worth  them  all  three 
times  over,  and  dislikes  them,  I  believe,  as  much  as  you  and 
I  do,  Clem.  If  he'd  only  had  the  pluck  to  say  that  he  didn't 
care  twopence  what  they  said  or  thought,  he  wouldn't  get  into 
one  scrape,  where  he  gets  into  twenty." 

"  Yes,"  assented  Burton ;  "  but  unluckily  it's  a  part  of 
Temple's  character  to  mind  what  such  fellows  as  Dilke  and 
Rawes  say.  It  has  always  been  the  same  with  him,  as  long  as 
I  can  remember.  He  is  for  ever  getting  himself  into  a  row, 
because  he  minds  what  fellows  say,  whose  opinion  isn't  worth 
a  straw.  That  was  the  history  of  the  row  he  got  into  about 
Harry  Wilder  two  years  ago." 

"  Ay ;  I  never  understood  the  rights  of  that,"  said  Cressing- 
ham. "  Harry  Wilder's  a  good  fellow,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"  I  believe  so,"  said  Burton,  "  much  such  another  fellow  as 
Temple  himself.  It  wasn't  Harry  that  got  him  into  the  scrape, 
but  a  fellow  who  was  staying  at  Colonel  Wilder's — Drake,  I 
think  his  name  was.  They  used  to  play  at  billiards  at  the  King's 


A  Retrospect.  81 

Arms  in  the  High  Street  during  the  holidays.  He  persuaded 
Charlie,  after  he'd  gone  back  to  school,  to  go  up  to  the  King's 
Arms  and  play  with  him  and  Harry,  though  the  inn  was  out  of 
bounds.  Temple  was  very  nearly  caught  one  day  by  Wilkes  and 
Macdonald,  and  he  wouldn't  go  again.  But  Drake  persuaded 
him  to  slip  out  at  night,  after  the  fellows  were  gone  to  bed — " 

"  How  could  Temple  contrive  to  get  out  ? "  interrupted 
Cressingham.  "  Are  you  sure,  Clem,  of  what  you  say  ?  What 
passed  was  kept  very  quiet,  you  know." 

"  I  know  that,"  said  Burton.  "  But  Mr  Knyvett,  who  was 
somehow  concerned  in  the  matter,  told  my  aunt  all  about  it ; 
and  she  told  me,  wanting  to  warn  me  against  Temple,  I 
believe.  I  never  talked  about  it,  but  I  don't  mind  telling  you. 
The  thing  went  on  for  a  long  time,  and  at  last  Colonel  Wilder 
found  out  that  both  Harry  and  Charlie  owed  Drake  a  lot  of 
money.  Drake  had  persuaded  them  to  play  for  half-a-crown 
and  five  shillings  a  game,  and  in  time  it  had  run  up  to  a  good 
bit  of  money.  Drake  was  going  away,  and  wanted  to  be  paid, 
and  threatened  to  speak  to  Colonel  Wilder  about  it — 

"He  must  have  been  a  proper  snob,  that  Drake,"  cried 
Cressingham. 

"  Yes,"  assented  Burton,  "  an  out  and  out  snob.  Well, 
Harry  Wilder  was  obliged  to  tell  his  father  about  it,  and  to  ask 
him  not  only  to  pay  his  debt  to  Drake,  but  lend  Temple  some 
money  to  pay  his;  for  neither  of  them  had  a  stiver.  The 
Colonel  was  very  angry.  He  went  straight  up  into  Drake's 
room,  took  out  his  purse,  and  paid  him  his  whole  demand 
against  both  Harry  and  Charlie.  Then  he  requested  to  know 
when  Mr  Drake's  portmanteau  would  be  ready  to  be  taken  to 
the  inn.  Drake  had  to  clear  out  at  five  minutes'  notice." 

F 


82  Who  did  it? 

"  Serve  him  right,  too,"  said  Cressingham ;  "  but  the  Colonel 
went  up  to  the  Doctor  about  it,  didn't  he  ?  " 

"Yes,  the  Colonel's  a  peppery  old  fellow,"  said  Burton; 
and  his  back  was  particularly  put  up.  I  believe  he  was  sorry 
afterwards  that  he  had  been  so  hasty.  But  he  went  and  told 
it  all  to  Thornton." 

"  Well,  the  doctor  was  pretty  savage,  I  should  think,  wasn't 
he  ?  "  asked  Cressingham. 

"  He  isn't  as  fiery  as  the  old  Colonel,  but  he  was  very  angry. 
He  was  for  expelling  Temple  forthwith,  but  old  Wilder,  who 
had  cooled  down,  begged  him  off.  It  was  settled  at  last  that 
Temple  should  give  his  word  never  to  go  out  of  bounds  with 
Harry  Wilder  again ;  and  that,  I  believe,  has  been  strictly  kept 
to.  Temple  had  a  black  cross  to  his  name,  and  that  lost  him 
the  prize  that  half-year  in  the  third  class." 

"I  think  he  got  off  uncommonly  easy,"  said  Cressingham. 
"  But  look  here,  Clem.  How  did  Temple  manage  to  get  in 
and  out  of  the  house  at  night  ?  I  don't  know  a  place  where  it 
would  be  so  difficult  to  do  that.  I  know  there's  a  moveable 
bar  in  the  passage,  and  I've  seen  fellows  scramble  out  of  the 
window  when  they  wanted  to  get  into  the  yard  after  the  house- 
door  had  been  locked ;  and  I  know  the  inside  wall  may  be 
scaled.  But  who  could  get  into  the  yard  from  the  outside,  as 
Charlie  must  have  done  ?  Look  what  a  height  those  walls  are, 
and  as  smooth  almost  as  a  sheet  of  glass.  It  would  puzzle  a 
monkey  to  get  up." 

"  I  know  all  about  that  too,"  said  Burton,  "  though  I  don't 
believe  anybody  else  in  the  school  but  myself  and  Temple  know." 

"  How  did  you  find  it  out  ? "  inquired  Cressingham.  "  I 
suppose  Mr  Knyvett  didn't  tell  you  that  too,  did  he  ?  " 


A  Retrospect.  83 

"No,"  returned  Burton,  "I  don't  suppose  Mr  Knyvett 
knew.  No,  I  found  it  out  in  this  way.  I  was  very  ill  near 
about  the  time  when  this  row  was  going  on.  I  had  sprained 
my  foot  very  badly,  and  had  to  lie  all  day  and  night  on  my 
bed  for  nearly  a  fortnight.  I  was  put  to  sleep  in  my  present 
room,  which  is  the  only  one  in  the  house  which  looks  to  the 
north.  I  was  lying  awake  about  half-past  three  one  morning 
looking  out  of  the  window  at  the  birds,  which  were  just  waking 
up,  when  I  saw  Temple  coming  up  through  the  wood  on  the 
north  side  of  the  house.  He  crept  up  very  cautiously,  looking 
round  him  in  all  directions.  I  had  heard  enough  to  guess 
where  he  had  been,  and  was  curious  to  see  how  he  would  con- 
trive to  climb  the  wall.  I  saw  him  disappear  under  the  wall, 
and  in  a  minute  or  two  come  out  of  the  door  of  one  of  the  old 
sheds,  which  are  used  as  dust-holes  and  wood-houses.  Then 
he  got  through  the  passage-window,  as  I  had  expected.  I  took 
the  opportunity,  when  everybody  was  out  of  the  way,  of  exam- 
ining the  shed,  and,  after  hunting  about  for  a  long  time,  I 
found  a  sort  of  trap  in  one  corner  of  a  cupboard.  It  was  so 
well  concealed,  and  the  place  was  so  dark,  that  if  I  hadn't  been 
sure  that  there  must  be  such  a  thing  somewhere  about,  I  should 
never  have  discovered  it.  On  the  other  side  of  the  trap  there 
was  a  narrow  flight  of  stone  steps  that  went  quite  through  the 
wall  and  came  out  under  an  archway  across  the  ditch,  which 
looked  like  a  drain.  You  might  live  fifty  years  in  the  house,  and 
never  find  it  out." 

"  Well,  that  was  a  rum  go,"  said  Cressingham.     "  Did  you 
say  anything  about  it  to  Temple  ?" 

"  No,"  answered  Burton.     "  It  was  several  days  before  I 
had  an  opportunity  of  examining  the  place,  and  the  very  day 


84  Who  did  it  f 

afterwards  the  blow-up  about  Charlie  took  place.  I  heard  he 
had  promised  not  to  go  out  again,  and  I  thought  it  best  to  say 
nothing  about  it,  or  it  might  have  got  him  into  a  fresh  scrape." 

"  I  think  you  were  right,  Clem.  It  would  be  better  to  keep 
it  secret  as  long  as  Temple  is  here,  at  all  events.  By-the-bye, 
talking  of  secrets,  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  all  about  George 
Alford.  I  was  going  to  ask  you  about  him  on  that  day  when 
we  fell  in  with  those  two  fellows  on  the  Quoits.  I  used  to  like 
Alford  very  much,  and  should  like  to  hear  why  he  was  taken 
away,  and  where  he  is,  and  what  he  is  doing,  if  you  don't  mind 
telling  me." 

Burton  answered  that  he  had  no  objection  to  satisfy  his 
friend's  curiosity,  and  he  proceeded  at  once  to  do  so.  We  do 
not  propose  to  repeat  the  conversation  which  ensued,  but  to 
put  the  information  given  into  the  form  of  a  connected  narra- 
tive, which  will  embrace  Burton's  early  history,  as  well  as 
Alford's. 

Clement  Burton  was  an  orphan.  He  had  only  one  near 
relative  living,  his  father's  unmarried  sister.  His  father  had 
offended  his  family  by  a  marriage  they  disapproved,  and  he  had 
been  left  to  depend  wholly  on  his  pay  for  the  support  of  his 
wife  and  child.  In  the  sixth  year  of  his  residence  in  India  he 
had  been  killed  in  a  skirmish  with  some  Sikhs,  and  his  wife, 
who  had  been  in  very  weak  health  for  some  years  past,  did  not 
long  survive  the  shock.  Clement,  the  only  child,  was  left  with- 
out any  provision,  and  was  sent  home  to  his  aunt,  his  only  rela- 
tive. Miss  Burton,  who  had  succeeded  to  the  property  which 
should  have  been  her  brother's,  received  the  little  orphan,  and 
undertook  the  care  of  him,  though  not  very  graciously.  She  was 
residing  at  this  time  in  Wickfield,  where  she  occupied  a  comfort- 


A  Retrospect.  85 

able  house.  Clement  was  sent,  when  eight  years  old,  to  the  only 
school  which  the  little  town  contained,  and  there  made  acquaint- 
ance with  George  Alford,  a  boy  about  his  own  age.  George 
was  the  son  of  Colonel  Alford,  an  officer  who  had  taken  part 
in  the  ill-fated  Walcheren  expedition,  and  had  a  narrow  escape 
from  the  Walcheren  fever,  to  which  so  many  of  his  companions 
in  arms  had  fallen  victims.  The  doctors  shook  their  heads 
over  him,  and  pronounced  that  he  was  not  only  unfit  for  active 
service,  but  doubted  if  he  ever  would  be  fit  again.  Wickfield 
was  recommended  as  a  suitable  place  of  residence  for  him,  the 
air  being  mild  and  soft,  and  he  took  up  his  abode  there  accord- 
ingly. He  had  not  long  been  married  to  his  second  wife,  one 
of  the  young  ladies  who  had  been  sent  out  from  England — as 
was  the  common  practice  in  those  days — to  take  the  chances 
of  the  matrimonial  market.  He  had  needed  a  mother  for 
George,  and  had  been  fain  to  take  Miss  Oldfield,  not  from  any 
profound  respect  or  admiration,  but  because  she  appeared  the 
most  eligible  of  those  among  whom  his  choice  lay.  So  far  as 
George  was  concerned,  at  all  events,  he  had  better  have  re- 
mained unmarried.  She  early  took  a  dislike  to  the  boy,  whose 
warm  recollections  of  his  own  mother  offended  her  self-esteem, 
and  whose  high  spirit  set  her  at  defiance.  Colonel  Alford  saw 
that  he  had  made  a  mistake,  but,  like  a  wise  man,  made  the 
best  of  it,  endeavouring  to  make  up  to  his  son,  by  his  own  per- 
sonal affection,  for  his  stepmother's  coldness. 

But  the  boy  found  his  home  an  unhappy  one,  and  was  glad 
instead  of  sorry  when  the  day  came  which  transferred  him  to 
Mr  Robson's  school.  Even  if  it  had  been  otherwise,  the 
friendship  which  he  formed  with  young  Burton  would  soon 
have  reconciled  him  to  his  new  situation. 


86  Who  did  it  f 

As  is  commonly  the  case  with  strong  friendships,  the  char- 
acters of  the  two  boys  were  different.  Clement  was  a  quiet, 
and,  though  by  no  means  wanting  in  ability,  rather  a  plodding 
boy,  single-hearted,  and  affectionate.  George  was  clever,  high- 
spirited  to  an  extent  that  bordered  on  lawlessness,  warm- 
hearted withal,  and  capable  of  strong  attachment.  He  was 
frequently  involved  in  small  scrapes,  and  sometimes  in  more 
serious  ones.  In  all  these  Clement  did  his  best  to  extricate 
him,  frequently  to  his  own  personal  loss  and  discredit ;  for  all 
which  he  was  requited  by  increased  devotion  on  his  com- 
panion's part.  The  one  point  of  resemblance  between  them, 
that  both  lacked  the  mother's  love,  for  the  loss  of  which 
nothing  can  atone  to  children,  formed  a  bond  between  them, 
which  would  have  been  enough  in  itself  to  cement  their  friend- 
ship. The  beginning  of  it  might  be  said  to  date  from  an  inci- 
dent which  occurred  very  shortly  after  their  admission  to  Mr 
Robson's  school.  It  was  a  wet  afternoon,  and  Alford  and 
Burton,  who  were  both  day-boys  (as  indeed  were  nearly  all  Mr 
Robson's  scholars),  and  who  chanced  to  live  at  a  greater  dis- 
tance from  the  school  than  the  other  pupils,  were  ordered  to 
stay  behind  after  lessons  until  the  rain  had  abated.  Finding 
the  atmosphere  of  the  schoolroom  of  the  dullest,  young  Burton 
took  a  ball  from  his  pocket,  and  invited  his  companion  to  play 
at  catch -ball  with  him.  Alford  complied,  but  after  a  quarter  of 
an  hour's  play,  George  found  the  game  dull,  and  began  to  vary 
it  by  throwing  the  ball  at  his  companion.  Clement  warned  him 
that  he  would  do  some  mischief,  but  the  other  only  replied  by 
calling  him  a  muff,  and  pelting  him  with  the  ball  more  vigor- 
ously than  before.  At  last  he  noted  through  the  window  that 
the  sky  was  again  clear,  and  discharging  one  final  shot  at  his 


A  Retrospect.  87 

staid  school-fellow,  he  opened  the  door  and  betook  himself 
homewards.  This  parting  discharge  proved  as  fatal  as  the 
arrows  of  the  Parthians  are  said  to  have  been.  It  struck  a  bronze 
figure  of  Giles  Chinnock,  the  founder  of  Wickfield  Grammar 
School,  which  occupied  the  place  of  honour  at  the  east  end, 
and  brought  it  down,  bracket  and  all,  with  a  crash,  which  it 
was  wonderful  that  George  did  not  hear  as  he  raced  along  the 
school-yard. 

It  did  reach,  however,  the  ears  of  the  schoolmaster,  as 
he  sat  in  his  study,  looking  over  the  longs  and  shorts  of  the 
first-class  boys.  He  forthwith  hastened  into  the  schoolroom, 
where  he  found  Clement  endeavouring  to  replace  the  bracket 
by  the  help  of  the  school-poker,  which  he  was  using  as  a  ham- 
mer. Mr  Robson's  anger  was  greatly  roused.  If  there  was 
one  thing  that  he  valued  more  than  another,  it  was  this  bronze 
figure  of  old  Chinnock,  a  venerable  bishop,  who  had  lived 
some  five  hundred  years  before,  and  whose  connection  with  the 
school  bestowed  upon  it  the  prestige  of  antiquity.  He  angrily 
inquired  of  Clement  how  this  had  happened,  and  was  not  molli- 
fied by  being  simply  assured  that  it  was  an  accident. 

"  An  accident,"  he  exclaimed,  his  eye  lighting  on  the  ball, 
which  still  lay  on  the  floor.  "  You  have  been  throwing  that  ball 
about  the  school,  I  suppose,  and  that  has  knocked  it  down." 

He  looked  at  Burton,  and  reading  no  denial  in  his  face,  and 
receiving  none  in  words,  went  on — 

"  I  shall  take  care  that  you  are  properly  punished  for  this, 
Burton.  You  will  write  out  for  me  ten  pages  of  the  Greek 
Grammar,  and  I  shall  send  you  home  with  a  note  to  your 
aunt  begging  her  to  stop  your  pocket-money  until  the  expense 
of  replacing  the  bracket  has  been  paid  for.  I  am  glad  to  see 


88  Wlwdidit? 

that  the  figure  is  not  broken,  or  it  would  be  a  much  more 
serious  matter." 

Burton  made  no  rejoinder,  and  was  despatched  homewards 
ten  minutes  afterwards  with  the  threatened  note.  Clement 
wrote  out  the  imposition,  and  delivered  it  to  the  head-master 
immediately  after  his  arrival  on  the  following  morning.  In 
the  interim  the  carpenter  had  been  sent  for,  who  replaced 
Giles  Chinnock  in  his  former  position,  and  nobody  but  Mr 
Robson  and  Clement  himself  knew  anything  of  what  had  taken 
place. 

But  a  day  or  two  afterwards  Alford  reminded  his  friend  of 
an  engagement  they  had  made  to  go  out  for  a  row  on  the 
Spene  with  one  of  the  watermen,  who  kept  a  few  pleasure- 
boats  at  the  Bridge  Wharf. 

"  I'm  sorry  to  say  I  can't  go,  George,"  said  Burton  ;  "  that 
is,  unless  you've  got  the  money  to  pay  for  it" 

"  I  got  the  money  to  pay  for  it ! "  exclaimed  Alford.  "  Why, 
you  know,  Clem,  that  I'm  never  allowed  any  money  now. 
Why,  you  know,  Clem,  when  we  talked  of  going  out  in  the 
boat,  I  told  you  that  I'd  no  money,  and  you  said  that  your 
aunt  always  allowed  you  two  shillings  a  week,  and  the  boat 
wouldn't  come  to  more  than  that" 

"  I  know  I  did,"  returned  Burton ;  "  but  I  can't  pay  the 
money  now." 

"  Oh !  if  you've  changed  your  mind,"  said  Alford  in  an 
offended  tone,  "  that  is  a  different  matter.  I'm  sure  I  don't 
want  you  to  pay  anything  you  don't  like  for  me." 

So  saying,  and  not  waiting  to  hear  the  explanations  that  his 
companion  was  trying  to  offer,  he  hurried  off  in  great  dudgeon, 
and  would  hardly  speak  to  Clement  for  the  next  few  days. 


A  Retrospect.  89 

But  it  chanced  in  the  ensuing  week  that  there  came  another 
wet  half-holiday,  and  the  usher  suggested  that  Master  Alford 
and  Master  Burton  should  again  stay  in  the  schoolroom  until 
the  weather  cleared. 

"  Stay  in  the  schoolroom,"  repeated  Mr  Robson.  "  Well 
then  I  must  beg  you,  Mr  Simcox,  to  stay  there  along  with 
them,  that  is,  if  Burton  is  one  of  them.  It  was  only  last  Wed- 
nesday that  he  was  throwing  a  ball  about,  and  knocked  down 
the  founder's  bust  It  was  a  wonder  it  was  not  broken.  By 
the  way,  Burton,  your  aunt  has  sent  me  the  money  to  pay  the 
carpenter.  It  was  six  shillings.  I  hope  she  has  stopped  your 
allowance  to  make  it  good,  as  I  requested  her  to  do.  Has 
she  done  so  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Burton  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Knocked  down  the  bronze  figure,  there  ! "  exclaimed  Al- 
ford, stepping  forward.  "  Was  it  knocked  over  last  Wednes- 
day, sir,  when  Clement  and  I  were  left  in  the  schoolroom  after 
lessons  ?  " 

"  When  Burton  was  left  there,"  replied  Mr  Robson.  "  I 
didn't  know  you  had  been  there  with  him." 

"  Oh,  if  you  please,  sir,  he  didn't  do  it  I  remember  I  threw 
the  ball  rather  high  as  I  ran  away,  and  I  did  fancy  I  heard  a 
noise  of  something  falling.  But  I  forgot  all  about  it  Please 
to  ask  Clement,  sir,  if  it  isn't  so." 

"  You  hear  what  George  Alford  tells  me,"  said  Mr  Robson, 
turning  with  some  surprise  to  Burton.  "  Is  he  correct  ?  " 

"  He  did  knock  it  down,  sir,"  said  Clement,  "  but  it  was  a 
mere  accident.  He  didn't  see  where  he  was  throwing.  And, 
if  you  please,  sir,  as  the  carpenter  has  been  paid,  and  I  did 
the  imposition,  I  hope  you  won't  punish  George." 


90  Who  did  it  f 

"  Punish  George,"  returned  Mr  Robson,  laying  his  hand  on 
Burton's  head.  "  No,  my  boy,  I  will  not  punish  him,  if  it  is 
only  for  your  sake.  And  I'll  call  on  Miss  Burton  this  after- 
noon, and  tell  her  what  has  happened." 

"  Oh,  Clement,  how  could  you  do  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Alford,  as 
they  passed  through  the  streets  of  Wickfield  on  their  way  to 
their  several  homes.  "  And  that's  why  you  had  no  money, 
too,  and  wouldn't  go  out  in  the  boat.  I  shall  never  forgive 
myself.  Come  in  here,  Clem,"  he  continued,  as  they  arrived 
at  the  gate  of  the  Colonel's  house.  "  Come  in,  I  must  tell  my 
father  about  it." 

Overcome  by  his  companion's  impetuosity,  Burton  allowed 
himself  to  be  dragged  into  Colonel  Alford's  study,  George 
pouring  forth  a  narrative  of  what  had  taken  place,  and  entreat- 
ing his  father  to  give  him  the  money  to  replace  that  part  of 
Clement's  allowance  which  had  been  already  stopped. 

Colonel  Alford  looked  at  his  son's  open  and  animated  face 
with  glistening  eyes.  Then  forcing  a  smile,  he  said,  "You 
ought  to  repay  Master  Burton,  of  course,  George.  But  why 
don't  you  do  so  out  of  your  own  pocket-money  ?  " 

"  My  pocket-money,  father ! "  exclaimed  the  boy  in  sur- 
prise. "  I  never  have  any  now.  Mamma  told  me  I  wasn't  to 
have  any  more." 

The  Colonel  looked  surprised,  and  was  on  the  point,  appa- 
rently, of  making  some  angry  remark.  But  he  checked  him- 
self, and,  after  a  moment  or  two  of  reflection,  took  out  his 
purse  and  gave  each  of  the  boys  a  crown-piece.  "  Your  mother 
misunderstood  me,  George,"  he  said ;  "  and  as  you  have  been 
kept  so  long  without  money,  this  to  make  up  for  it ;  and  you, 
Burton,  must  accept  this  as  a  present  from  me.  George,  I 


A  Retrospect.  91 

hope  you  will  bring  your  friend  home  here  on  holidays,  when- 
ever he  likes  to  come." 

It  was  hard  to  say  to  which  of  the  two  lads  this  permission  was 
the  more  acceptable.  Clement's  aunt,  as  we  have  seen,  though 
not  absolutely  unkind,  was  cold  and  distant  in  her  manner, 
and  evidently  regarded  the  nephew,  whom  an  unlucky  chance 
had  forced  upon  her,  as  an  encumbrance,  of  which  she  would 
willingly  be  rid.  Her  house  was  no  home  to  him ;  but  what 
was  wanting  there  was  found  in  Colonel  Alford's  family.  The 
Colonel  himself  took  a  great  fancy  to  the  lad,  showing  him 
warm  and  unvarying  kindness.  Mrs  Alford,  though  not  so 
gracious,  always  welcomed  him  civilly.  What  her  husband 
had  said  to  her,  no  one  but  themselves  knew,  but  it  had  the 
effect  he  desired.  She  thenceforth  always  treated  her  step-son 
with  a  show,  at  all  events,  of  kindness.  She  was  a  clever 
woman,  and,  perceiving  she  had  gone  too  far,  used  her  best 
efforts  to  efface  the  unfavourable  impression  she  had  made, 
and,  it  may  be  added,  succeeded  in  doing  so,  so  far  as  her 
husband  was  concerned. 

So  matters  went  on  for  two  years  or  so,  until  the  boys  had 
attained  the  age  of  twelve,  when  an  accident  occurred  which 
might  have  proved  dangerous.  The  Spene,  it  should  be  men- 
tioned, was  a  broad  river,  and  though  deep  for  many  miles  near 
Wickfield,  contained  a  number  of  islands,  which  were  covered 
at  high  water,  and  sunken  rocks  which  rendered  it  very  dangerous. 
It  was  long  before  Colonel  Alford  would  allow  the  boys  to  go 
out  upon  it,  unless  accompanied  by  a  waterman,  even  in  the 
heavy  boats,  which  it  was  extremely  difficult  to  overset.  They 
did  at  last,  however,  obtain  the  desired  permission,  and  eager 
to  avail  themselves  of  their  newly-acquired  privilege,  set  out  the 


92  Who  did  it? 

very  day  after  the  leave  had  been  granted  for  a  long  row  up- 
stream, though  the  day  was  ungenial  and  the  sky  threatened 
a  storm.  Having  rowed  a  considerable  distance,  they  found 
the  day-light  begin  to  fail.  Aware  now  of  their  imprudence, 
they  turned  round  and  began  rowing  homewards.  But  a  storm 
was  evidently  near  at  hand.  The  darkness  gathered  fast,  and 
presently  there  came  a  deluge  of  rain,  together  with  a  succes- 
sion of  furious  gusts,  which  nearly  overturned  the  boat.  The 
swell  caught  Clement's  oar.  He  was  knocked  backwards,  and 
the  oar  went  overboard.  The  boat  now  became  quite  un- 
manageable, and  was  swept  along  by  the  wind  and  tide  past 
the  town,  Alford  shouting  in  vain  for  help.  They  were  already 
abreast  the  last  of  the  wharfs,  and  would  soon  have  been  carried 
out  towards  the  sea,  when  Alford's  cries  were  at  last  answered 
by  a  distant  hail,  and  presently  the  welcome  sound  of  oars 
was  heard  through  the  darkness,  and  a  boat  ran  up  along- 
side. 

"  Hallo,  boys ! "  said  the  occupant  of  the  boat,  "  how  do  you 
come  to  be  out  alone  on  a  night  like  this  ?  You  shouldn't 
venture  out  in  a  boat,  specially  in  this  weather,  if  you  can't 
manage  her." 

"  One  of  the  oars  has  gone  overboard,"  said  George,  a  little 
affronted  at  this  address,  "  and  my  friend  has  hurt  himself,  or 
we  could  have  managed  her  well  enough." 

"  Well,  you'd  better  let  me  come  into  your  boat,  which  is  a 
good  bit  bigger  than  mine,"  said  the  man.  "  We  can  row  her 
in  between  us,  and  I'll  fasten  mine  to  yours." 

They  soon  reached  the  shore,  after  which  George  inquired 
the  boatman's  name.  He  had  no  money  with  him  then,  he 


A  Retrospect.  93 

said,  but  he  should  like  to  come  down  to-morrow,  and  pay 
him  for  his  services. 

But  the  boatman  would  not  tell  him.  "  I  don't  want  no 
pay,  sir,  thank  you,"  he  said,  "  for  saving  your  life,  'tis  no 
no  more  than  a  man's  duty,  and  I  should  be  ashamed  to  take 
money  for  doing  it." 

George  thanked  him ;  and  Clement  by  this  time  having  re- 
covered his  senses,  they  wended  their  way  home  together. 
They  made  several  attempts  to  discover  their  deliverer's  name 
and  residence,  but  for  a  long  time  without  success. 

At  last  it  happened  one  bitter  cold  day  in  the  January  fol- 
lowing that  the  two  lads  went  out  to  skate  on  a  piece  of  water, 
which  had  been  formed  by  the  overflowing  of  the  river,  beyond 
the  town  on  the  seaward  side.  It  was  a  spot  they  had  never 
visited  before,  and  returning  home  after  an  afternoon's  skating, 
they  got  entangled  in  a  labyrinth  of  narrow  lanes,  some  of 
which  were  flooded  with  half-frozen  water.  The  night  was 
dark,  there  being  neither  moon  nor  stars.  At  length  they 
found  themselves  on  the  banks  of  the  river  near  a  pile  of  de- 
serted, and  apparently  half-ruinous,  buildings.  Looking  round 
them  in  all  directions,  they  at  last  perceived  a  light  at  a  short 
distance,  and  came  upon  a  small  cottage  almost  hidden  by 
trees.  They  knocked  at  the  door,  but  for  some  time  received 
no  answer.  At  last  a  feeble  step  was  heard  descending  the 
staircase,  and  a  sickly-looking  woman  with  a  rush-light  in  her 
hand  opened  the  door. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  she  said.  "  If  it's  money  or  victuals, 
we  haven't  none  to  give  you." 

"  We  have  been  out  skating,"  said  Alford,  "  and  have  lost 
our  way.  We  want  you  to  tell  it  us." 


94  WJw  did  it  f 

"  Come  in,  sir,"  said  the  woman  in  an  altered  tone. 
"  There's  no  one  here  can  go  with  you,  but  I  daresay 
John  will  be  able  to  direct  you,  if  you  tell  him  where  you 
live." 

The  two  boys  entered  the  house,  glad  to  obtain  a  respite 
from  the  cold  and  darkness  outside.  On  a  low  pallet-bed 
placed  before  the  fire,  an  old  man  was  lying,  whom  George  at 
once  recognised,  notwithstanding  his  wan  and  wasted  appear- 
ance, as  the  man  who  had  rescued  them  on  the  night  of  their 
adventure  on  the  Spene  five  months  before. 

"  Why,  you're  the  fellow,"  he  exclaimed,  "whom  we've  been 
on  the  look-out  for  ever  so  long.  Don't  you  remember  com- 
ing to  help  us  one  evening  last  August,  when  we  were  adrift  in 
the  Nautilus,  and  had  lost  an  oar.  Wherever  have  you  been 
hiding  that  we  couldn't  find  you  ?  " 

"  I  remember  you  quite  well,  sir,"  returned  the  man  ;  "  and 
'taint  no  wonder  as  you  couldn't  find  us.  We've  had  nothing 
but  sickness  ever  since.  First  of  all,  my  wife  here  took  the 
fever.  She  was  down  with  it  three  months  or  more ;  least- 
ways she  couldn't  leave  her  bed  for  three  months  good,  and 
then  I  was  took  worse  than  she  was,  and  I  can't  get  about 
yet." 

"  Can'i  the  doctor  do  you  any  good  ?  "  asked  Clement. 

"  Doctor,  young  gentleman  ?  We  can't  afford  to  pay  no 
doctor ;  we  can't  provide  ourselves  with  victuals  and  drink, 
let  alone  physic.  The  baker  and  grocer  wont  trust  us  no 
more." 

"  Why  don't  you  ask  for  relief  from  the  parish  ?  "  asked 
Clement,  who  had  picked  up  some  information  about  such 
matters. 


A  Retrospect.  95 

"  The  parish  ?  no  sir.  I'll  never  come  upon  the  parish,  as 
sure  as  my  name's  John  Bowles.  Ah,  if  my  lads  had  stayed 
at  home,  as  I  wanted  'em  to,  we  should  never  have  come  to 
this." 

"  Your  two  sons  ?  "  said  Alford.  "  What  has  become  of 
them  ?  " 

"  They  went  to  sea  for  seven  year,"  replied  the  old  man, 
with  a  sigh.  "  It  were  four  year  ago,  four  year  come  Lady 
Day.  They  may  come  back  in  three  year,  but  they  mayn't 
find  their  old  father  and  mother  alive  if  they  do." 

"  What  did  they  go  to  sea  for  ?  "  asked  Burton. 

"  Why,  you  see  the  times  was  hard.  They  used  to  work 
in  the  building  yard  close  by,  and  got  good  wages.  But  when 
that  was  shut  up,  they  was  thrown  out.  I  wanted  them  to  stay 
and  work  with  me  as  watermen.  But  they  thought  they'd 
do  better  for  us  all  by  going  to  sea.  Half  their  wages  was  to 
have  been  sent  to  us,  and  so  they  were  for  two  year  and  more. 
But  now  we're  told  they've  gone  into  another  ship,  or  some- 
thing ;  anyway,  the  wages  don't  come.  But  you  young 
gentlemen  want  to  be  told  your  way  home,  don't  you  ?  Tell 
me  where  you  live,  and  I  daresay  I  shall  be  able  to  direct 
you.'.' 

"  I  live  at  Pomona  Villa,"  said  Burton,  "  if  you  know 
where  that  is." 

"  And  I  at  No.  4  East  Street,"  said  Alford. 

"  I  know  East  Street,"  said  Bowles.  "  It's  about  a  mile 
from  here.  You  must  go  straight  on  till  you  reach  the  corner 
of  the  Walescliff  Road.  Then  turn  to  the  right  and  go  on  for 
nearly  half-a-mile,  then  you'll  find  yourself  at  the  entrance  of 
the  High  Street,  and  that—  " 


96  Who  did  it? 

"  When  we  get  to  the  High  Street,  it'll  be  all  right,"  said 
Alford.  "Thank  you,  Mr  Bowles,  and  here's  half-a-crown 
that  we  always  meant  to  give  you  for  helping  us  that  night. 
You  must  take  it,  please."  He  laid  it  down  on  the  bed  as  he 
spoke.  "  Now,  good-night.  Clem  and  I  will  come  and  see 
you  again  before  long." 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE    LION. 

THE  two  boys  did  not  fail  to  plead  on  behalf  of  old  Bowles 
with  their  friends,  and  their  representations  were  attended 
with  success.  Colonel  Alford  knew  something  of  the  old 
man,  who  had  done  one  or  two  odd  jobs  for  him ;  and  Miss 
Burton,  whatever  might  be  her  faults,  never  refused  to  help 
any  case  of  real  distress.  Broth,  and  wine,  and  proper  medi- 
cines were  sent  down  to  the  cottage,  and  the  services  of  the 
doctor  called  in.  The  patient  soon  began  to  mend,  and  in 
two  months'  time  was  able  to  resume  his  usual  employment. 
He  was  very  grateful  to  his  two  friends,  and  during  the 
ensuing  summer,  often  took  them  out  in  his  boat  into  the 
estuary  of  the  Spene,  where  there  was  first-rate  fishing.  He 
would  have  refused  all  payment,  if  the  boys  would  have  per- 
mitted it ;  but  they  told  him  he  must  take  the  customary 
charge  for  the  hire  of  his  boat,  or  they  would  not  go  out  with 
him.  During  these  expeditions  his  ordinary  talk  was  about 
his  sons,  of  whom  he  had  at  last  heard  something.  They  had 
gone  on  board  a  whaling  ship,  and  were  to  pass  one  or  two 
winters  in  the  Northern  seas,  after  which  they  hoped  to 
return  with  money  enough  to  set  them  all  up  in  business. 

G 


98  Who  did  it? 

"  They  are  good  lads,  young  gentlemen,"  he  would  often  say, 
"  Tom  and  Bill,  particlarly  Tom.  He  never  did  any  one 
no  wrong,  and  was  always  kind  to  his  father." 

The  boys  would  have  thoroughly  enjoyed  their  summer  if  it 
had  not  been  for  one  drawback.  This  was  the  resolution 
which  Miss  Burton  had  formed  forthwith  of  leaving  Wickfield 
and  residing  for  the  future  in  the  neighbouring  town  of  Wales- 
cliffe.  The  cause  of  this  determination  was  a  quarrel  between 
her  and  her  next  door  neighbour,  one  Mr  Wilcoxon,  a  widower, 
who  had  recently  come  to  reside  in  Wickfield,  and  had  rented 
the  semi-de*tached  villa  immediately  adjoining  her  own.  Mr 
Wilcoxon  was  a  middle-aged,  rather  handsome  man,  well- 
dressed,  and  with  an  address  which  passed  with  most  people  for 
good  breeding.  No  one  knew  exactly  who  he  was,  or  where  he 
came  from.  There  were  of  course  all  sorts  of  stories  current 
respecting  him.  He  was  the  son  of  an  attorney  in  Sheffield, 
according  to  one  report,  and  his  father  had  made  a  fortune,  of 
which  Mr  Wilcoxon  was  the  sole  inheritor.  According  to 
another,  the  parent  in  question  had  been  a  working-man,  who 
had  raised  himself  to  affluence  by  some  invention  which  he 
had  patented,  and  had  been  careful  to  give  his  son  a  good 
education.  A  third  rumour  said  that  Mr  Wilcoxon  was  not  an 
Englishman  by  birth,  but  had  come  from  the  United  States, 
thinking  he  could  employ  his  money  better  in  England.  As 
usual  there  was  some  truth  in  every  one  of  these  reports,  but 
more  error.  He  was,  in  truth,  the  son  of  a  country  attorney, 
who  had  emigrated  to  the  States,  finding  himself  unable  to 
make  a  living  at  home.  He  had  settled  in  New  York, 
where  he  had  been  fortunate  in  his  speculations,  and 
had  bequeathed  a  considerable  fortune  to  his  only  son,  who 


The  Lion.  99 

had  thereupon  returned  to  England,  resolving  to  establish  him- 
self in  business  wherever  he  might  find  a  suitable  opening. 
Visiting  Wickfield,  he  was  struck  with  the  commercial  advan- 
tages of  its  situation,  the  cheapness  of  the  living,  and  the  low 
rate  of  wages  paid  to  journeyman.  He  saw  that  if  a  factory 
should  be  built  at  Wickfield,  its  owner  might  supply  the  Lon- 
don market  at  a  cheaper  rate  than  any  of  the  manufacturing 
towns.  It  would  be  the  very  place  in  which  to  employ  his 
capital.  He  resolved  to  reside  there  for  a  short  time  at  all 
events,  and  endeavour  to  arrange  his  schemes.  In  this  pur- 
pose he  engaged  a  house  which,  unluckily  for  Miss  Burton, 
chanced  to  be  No.  i  Pomona  Villas. 

Of  all  the  ingenious  contrivances  for  setting  neighbours  by 
the  ears,  none  have  ever  been  devised  equal  to  semi-detatched 
villas.  I  suppose  there  have  been  found  people  so  possessed 
with  the  spirit  of  peace  and  long-suffering,  that  they  could  live 
in  two  of  these  brick  and  mortar  twins  without  either  an  open  or 
a  smouldering  quarrel.  Indeed,  Miss  Burton  and  her  original 
neighbour,  a  blind  and  deaf  paralytic  old  gentleman,  did  so 
live  for  a  period  of  no  less  than  six  years  \  but  mainly,  it  is  to 
be  feared,  because  the  old  gentleman  in  question  was  wholly 
unconscious  of  his  neighbour's  doings,  or,  indeed,  that  he  had 
any  neighbour  at  all.  Miss  Burton  might  batter  away  at  her 
piano,  as  she  was  sometimes  wont  to  do,  through  the  whole 
forenoon,  and  provoke  no  message  that  her  neighbour  had  a 
bad  headache  and  could  not  bear  any  noise  that  morning. 
She  might  give  a  musical  party,  or  even  a  dance,  protracted  to 
a  late  hour,  and  poor  old  Mr  Wilkinson  was  in  no  way  aware 
that  any  festivity  was  in  progress.  She  might  even  keep 
Brahmapootras  and  Houdins  in  the  garden  behind  the  house 


ioo  Who  did  it? 

without  eliciting  remonstrance.  But  when  Mr  Wilkinson  was 
carried  to  his  rest  in  the  churchyard,  and  Mr  Wilcoxon  took 
his  place,  a  different  state  of  things  ensued.  There  was  not 
much  difference  in  the  names,  Miss  Burton  was  wont  to  remark 
to  her  friends,  but  a  great  deal  of  difference  in  the  men. 

Mr  Wilcoxon  did  not,  indeed,  at  first  interfere  with  her.  It 
was  his  cue  to  make  himself  as  acceptable  as  he  could  to  his  new 
fellow-townsmen;  and  Miss  Burton  was  a  personage  of  some  im- 
portance in  Wickfield.  He  endeavoured  to  make  his  way  in  to  her 
good  graces,  fastening  upon  Clement  as  the  best  mode  of  ac- 
complishing his  object.  He  had  a  son  near  about  young 
Burton's  age,  whom  he  had  sent  to  Mr  Robson's  school.  One 
day  Mr  Wilcoxon  planned  an  excursion  to  the  Green  Holm,  an 
island  lying,  as  the  reader  has  heard,  in  the  estuary  of  the  Spene. 
It  was  to  consist  chiefly  of  young  people,  George  Alford  among 
others,  who  were  to  picnic  on  the  island,  and  return  to  a  dance 
at  his  house  in  the  evening.  He  paid  his  respects  to  Miss 
Burton,  inviting  Clement  to  make  one  of  the  party.  He  had 
intended  to  add,  if  his  overtures  had  been  favourably  received, 
that  he  hoped  Miss  Burton  herself  would  do  him  the  honour 
to  look  in  during  the  evening.  But  the  lady,  who  entertained 
a  most  aristocratic  disdain  of  all  persons  who  were  not  well 
known  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  who  further  regarded  it  as 
a  kind  of  impertinence  that  one  of  these  should  have  pre- 
sumed to  take  up  his  abode  next  door  to  herself,  put  on  her 
very  iciest  manner,  and  declined  in  a  very  few  words  the  invita- 
tion for  her  nephew. 

Mr  Wilcoxon  "  had  the  passions  of  his  kind,"  and  resented, 
after  his  own  fashion,  the  affront  he  had  received.  Miss  Burton 
presently  received  notice  that  "the  neighbours"  had  complained 


The  Lion.  101 

of  the  noise  made  by  her  fowls,  which  disturbed  their  sleep. 
Her  favourite  cat  disappeared,  and  Martha,  her  henchwoman, 
was  confident  that  it  had  been  "  shot  by  that  there  young 
Wilcoxon,  with  his  nasty  bows  and  arrows."  To  the  same 
cause  were  referred  the  frequent  breakages  of  the  greenhouse 
windows.  It  was  a  long  time  before  she  could  bring  herself 
to  address  a  note  to  her  plebeian  neighbour,  and  when  at  last 
she  did  so,  she  reaped  but  small  advantage  from  the  step. 
Mr  Wilcoxon  sent  his  compliments.  He  knew  nothing  of  the 
matters  to  which  Miss  Burton  referred,  nor  did  any  of  his 
household.  "  Mr  Wilcoxon  could  not  but  add,  that  the  in- 
cessant playing  on  her  piano,  which  was  distinctly  audible  in 
his  drawing-room,  was  a  more  serious  annoyance  than  any 
which  Miss  B.  complained  of." 

The  good  lady  consulted  her  solicitor,  Mr  Knyvett,  but 
received  the  unwelcome  assurance  that  he  was  afraid  she 
would  find  it  very  difficult  to  bring  Mr  Wilcoxon  within  the 
clutches  of  the  law.  He  knew  too  well  what  he  was  about  to 
get  himself  into  trouble.  The  only  thing  Miss  Burton  could 
do,  he  feared,  would  be  to  change  her  house,  and  as  her  lease 
would  be  up  at  Lady  Day,  that  could  easily  be  managed.  No 
doubt  some  other  house  could  be  found  in  Wickfield,  which 
would  suit  as  well. 

Miss  Burton  agreed  to  the  first  half  of  his  suggestion,  but 
not  to  the  other.  She  was  willing  to  quit  Pomona  Villa,  but 
she  was  resolved  not  to  remain  in  Wickfield.  The  same  town 
could  not  contain  her  and  Mr  Wilcoxon.  Finding  that  her 
determination  was  fixed,  Mr  Knyvett  suggested  the  neighbour- 
ing fishing  town  of  Walescliff,  as  a  desirable  place  of  abode. 
There  were  several  nice  houses  there,  to  his  knowledge,  now 


IO2  Who  did  it? 

standing  vacant ;  there  was  also  a  first-rate  school,  Dr  Thorn- 
ton's of  Holmwood  Priory,  to  which  Clement  might  be  sent. 
Miss  Burton  approved  of  these  suggestions,  only  stipulating 
that  Clement  should  go  as  a  boarder  to  Dr  Thornton's  school, 
as  she  wanted  more  quiet  in  the  house. 

The  matter  accordingly  was  so  arranged,  and  with  such 
expedition,  that  the  Wickfield  people  heard  of  Miss  Burton's 
approaching  departure,  almost  before  any  of  the  particulars 
of  her  differences  with  Mr  Wilcoxon  had  been  noised  abroad. 
Colonel  Alford  made  an  attempt  to  smooth  matters  between 
the  disputants.  He  called  upon  Mr  Wilcoxon,  whose  ac- 
quaintance he  had  already  made  at  a  public  meeting,  and 
represented  to  him  that  Miss  Burton  was  an  old  resident,  and 
a  lady  much  respected  in  the  town,  to  whom  some  considera- 
tion was  due.  Mr  Wilcoxon  received  the  Colonel  with  the 
greatest  urbanity,  declared  that  he  had  been  much  misunder- 
stood, and  was  ready  to  do  anything  in  reason  for  the  sake  of 
peace.  With  this  assurance,  the  Colonel  next  visited  Miss 
Burton,  by  whom  he  was  welcomed  with  equal  cordiality. 
The  Colonel's  mission  was  a  failure,  Miss  Burton  having 
already  engaged  the  house  at  Walescliff;  but  it  was  not 
without  its  results  nevertheless.  Miss  Burton  expressed  herself 
greatly  obliged,  and  in  reply  to  the  Colonel's  expression  of 
regret  that  his  son  and  young  Clement  would  be  parted,  said 
she  hoped  the  boys  would  meet  frequently  during  the 
holidays.  Mr  Wilcoxon  returned  the  Colonel's  visit,  and 
made  so  favourable  an  impression,  that  he  thenceforth  became 
a  favourite  guest  at  Mrs  Alford's  table,  winning  the  Colonel's 
heart  by  his  judicious  praises  of  George. 

Miss  Burton's  programme  was  carried  out,  with  the  consent 


The  Lion.  103 

of  all  parties,  half  the  boy's  vacations  being  passed  at  Wales- 
cliff,  and  half  at  Wickfield ;  and  it  was  hard  to  say  which 
place  the  boys  enjoyed  most — Wickfield  with  its  lovely  river 
studded  with  green  islets,  or  Walescliff  with  its  rocky  cliffs 
and  picturesque  harbour,  and  its  deep-sea  fishing  and  bathing. 
So  happily  passed  two  more  years,  but  in  the  course  of  the 
second  summer  an  occurrence  took  place,  which  put  a  stop 
to  Clement's  visits  to  Wickfield. 

It  chanced  that  the  town  was  visited  by  a  large  travelling 
menagerie,  and  George  and  his  friends,  Clement  Burton  and 
Frank  Knyvett,  were  among  the  earliest  visitors.  A  large 
crowd  had  assembled,  which  increased  as  the  evening  ad- 
vanced. The  glare  of  the  lights,  and  the  noise  of  a  hundred 
voices  laughing,  shouting,  and  cracking  jests,  excited  some  of 
the  animals  to  an  extent,  which  provoked  still  further  the 
mirth  of  one  part  of  the  audience.  One  lion  in  particular, 
which  (as  they  afterwards  learned),  had  been  only  recently 
added  to  the  menagerie,  was  in  a  state  of  furious  excitement. 
It  tramped  up  and  down  the  narrow  area  of  its  den,  lashing 
its  sides  with  its  tail,  and  showing  its  formidable  range  of 
teeth.  Every  now  and  then  it  made  a  spring  at  the  bars ;  and 
if  they  had  not  been  very  securely  fastened,  they  must  have 
given  way  before  it. 

The  boys,  reckless  as  is  ever  their  wont,  were  extremely 
amused  at  the  lion's  abortive  efforts  to  seize  his  tormentors. 
On  one  of  these  occasions,  his  tail  was  thrust  through  the 
bars,  and  hung  down  for  more  than  a  foot  outside  the  cage. 

With  all  the  heedlessness  of  a  schoolboy  of  fourteen,  George 
Alford  caught  hold  of  it  with  both  hands,  and  tried  to  drag 
the  lion  backwards  up  to  the  bars.  Frank  Knyvett  and  one 


IO4  Who  did  it? 

or  two  more  of  his  companions,  who  saw  the  manoeuvre,  also 
clutched  hold  of  the  tail,  and  their  united  strength  was 
for  the  moment  sufficient  to  pull  the  animal  towards  them. 
This  roused  the  fury  of  the  brute  to  the  utmost.  With  a 
terrific  roar,  the  like  of  which  the  spectators  had  never  heard 
before,  he  wrenched  his  tail  from  their  grasp,  and  turning 
round,  he  sprang  with  his  full  force  at  them.  A  crash  was 
heard,  as  if  the  front  of  the  cage  was  giving  way.  There  was 
a  scream  of  horror  on  the  instant,  and  the  crowd  rushed  pell 
mell  through  the  open  doorway,  hustling  and  trampling  on 
one  another,  nor  once  remitting  their  exertions,  until  they 
found  themselves  in  the  yard  outside. 

Clement,  who  had  stood  aloof,  after  vainly  entreating 
George  to  desist  from  his  dangerous  sport,  rushed  up  to  his 
rescue,  as  soon  as  he  perceived  the  peril  in  which  his  friend 
was  placed.  He  was  knocked  down  by  the  crowd,  and  fell, 
stunned  and  motionless,  immediately  under  the  bars  of  the 
lion's  den.  No  one  noticed  this  mishap  until  the  doorway 
had  been  cleared  of  the  mass  of  terrified  fugitives,  which  had 
choked  it.  Then  one  of  the  hindermost  venturing  to  look 
back,  saw  the  boy  lying  in  a  swoon,  almost  immediately  under 
the  claws  of  the  lion,  which  was  still  striving  with  unabated 
ferocity  to  break  down  the  front  of  its  cage.  Clement's  situa- 
tion was  evidently  one  of  extreme  danger.  The  oak  rail  into 
which  the  iron  bars  had  been  inserted  still  resisted,  but  the 
bars  themselves  had  been  bent  in  several  places,  and  unless 
something  was  done  to  prevent  it,  the  savage  brute  would 
soon  force  its  way  out.  Frank  Knyvett  was  too  faint  to 
understand  what  was  passing ;  but  George  Alford,  who  had 
been  carried  out  in  the  tide  of  the  runaways,  no  sooner  heard 


"THE  BRUTE  RENEWED  HIS  EFFORTS." 


Page  104. 


The  Lion.  105 

what  was  going  on  than  he  rushed  back  to  the  door,  which 
some  of  the  crowd  were  endeavouring  to  secure. 

"  Let  me  pass,"  he  cried,  "  I  must  go  and  bring  Clement 
out.  Won't  some  of  you  fellows  help  me  to  carry  him.  He's 
in  a  faint  ?  " 

"  You  had  better  not  attempt  to  go  in  there,"  observed  one  of 
those  whom  he  addressed,  "if  you  do,  you'll  only  provoke  him  to 
break  out  all  the  sooner.  The  keepers  are  gone  for  their  guns, 
and  will  be  here  presently.  When  they  come,  we'll  go  in  and 
fetch  the  chap  out.  Better  wait  till  then." 

"  Let  me  pass,  will  you  ? "  returned  George,  indignantly ; 
"  if  none  of  you  have  pluck  enough  to  help  in  saving  a  fellow's 
life,  let  me  go  at  all  events." 

He  burst  through  the  crowd  and  rushed  in.  They  had  been 
right  in  saying  his  entrance  would  provoke  the  lion  to  still 
greater  fury,  but  George  contrived  to  seize  Burton  by  the  legs 
and  drag  him  out  of  the  monster's  reach.  The  brute  renewed 
his  efforts  with  increased  fury,  and  would  in  a  few  seconds 
more  have  torn  down  the  bars,  which  were  already  yielding. 
But  at  this  moment  three  men  armed  with  guns,  entered  the 
menagerie,  and  one  of  them,  fearlessly  stepping  up  to  the  cage, 
ordered  the  lion  to  retire  into  the  inner  den.  The  animal 
knew  the  harsh  tones  of  the  keeper's  voice,  and  the  instinct  of 
habitual  obedience  prevailed  over  its  rage.  It  crept  slowly 
away  until  it  had  disappeared  from  sight.  The  inner  cage  was 
now  secured,  and  the  nearest  blacksmith  sent  for  to  repair  the 
damage. 

Clement  was  soon  restored  to  consciousness,  and  carried 
back,  for  he  was  still  too  exhausted  to  walk,  to  Colonel  Alford's 
house.  When  he  was  informed  of  all  that  had  passed,  his 


io6  Who  did  it? 

gratitude  to  the  friend  who  had  so  manfully  risked  his  life  for 
him  knew  no  bounds.  George  took  it,  after  the  fashion  of 
boys,  with  great  coolness. 

"  Come,  Clem,"  he  said,  "  you're  making  a  deal  too  much 
of  this  matter.  I  don't  suppose  the  brute  would  have  broken 
out,  even  if  the  keepers  hadn't  come  in,  and  any  way  I  should 
have  had  you  safe  out  of  the  way  long  before  he  could  have 
got  free.  And,  to  be  sure,  you  don't  think  I  could  have  let 
you  lie  there  and  be  chawed  up  by  that  beast,  do  you  ?  It  was 
my  fault  that  he  got  savage  at  all,  you  know.  Come,  Clem, 
let  us  hear  no  more  of  this  !  Why,  Frank  would  have  done 
the  same  if  he  hadn't  fainted." 

"  I  don't  want  to  say  any  more,  George,"  returned  Burton, 
"  excepting  only  this,  that  I  shall  never  forget  what  you  did  for 
me  to-day.  If  ever  you  are  in  danger  or  trouble  of  any  kind, 
you'll  find  that  I  have  not  forgotten  it." 

The  affair  excited  a  good  deal  of  attention  at  the  time,  and 
presently  reached  Miss  Burton's  ears,  who  thereupon  declared 
that  she  could  not  for  the  future  allow  Clement  to  run  any 
more  such  risks.  Master  Alford  might  be  a  very  clever  and 
gentlemanly  boy — she  had  nothing  to  say  against  it.  But  it 
was  plain  he  was  always  dragging  her  nephew  into  mischief  of 
some  kind,  and  was  a  very  undesirable  companion  for  him. 
He  had  better  pass  his  holidays  for  the  future  entirely  at 
Wickfield,  and  Clement  must  stay  at  home  with  her. 

So  the  boys  were  parted,  to  their  mutual  regret,  but  after  all 
it  proved  to  be  only  for  a  short  time.  Colonel  Alford,  whose 
health  had  gradually  improved  during  his  residence  at  Wick- 
field,  at  last  found  himself  so  completely  restored,  as  to  be  fit 
for  active  service  again,  and  the  stirring  tales  arriving  by  every 


Tlie  Lion.  107 

mail  from  the  Spanish  Peninsula  rekindled  the  martial  ardour, 
which  the  melancholy  experience  of  Walcheren  had  for  the 
time  extinguished. 

He  went  up  to  London  and  submitted  himself  to  medical 
examination,  and  this  proving  favourable,  solicited  permission 
at  the  War  Office  to  rejoin  his  regiment.  This  was  obtained 
without  much  difficulty,  the  regiment  in  question  having  suffered 
severely  in  the  capture  of  Badajos.  He  was  much  aided  in 
his  arrangements  by  a  relative  of  Mr  Wilcoxon,  who  was  one 
of  the  principal  army  agents  in  London.  On  his  return  to 
Wickfield  to  take  leave  of  his  wife  and  children,  he  warmly 
expressed  his  thanks  to  Mr  Wilcoxon,  who  had  now  become 
an  habitual  visitor,  and  at  Mrs  Alford's  request  named  him  as 
one  of  his  executors  in  the  will  which  he  executed  before 
leaving  England. 

George  saw  his  father  depart  with  very  mingled  feelings.  In 
many  ways  it  was  a  severe  blow  to  him,  the  first  he  had  ever 
sustained,  as  he  had  lost  his  own  mother  when  he  was  too 
young  to  understand  his  loss.  His  father  had  been  his  con- 
stant companion  of  his  walks  and  rides,  into  whose  ear  he 
could  pour  all  his  school-boy  confidences,  assured  of  his  ready 
and  hearty  sympathy.  Now  that  Clement  had  been  withdrawn 
from  Mr  Robson's,  he  felt  that  he  should  be  left  solitary  in- 
deed. On  the  other  hand,  George  shared  the  keen  interest 
that  his  father  felt  in  the  progress  of  the  British  arms  in  the 
Peninsula.  He  could  not  grudge  his  father  the  opportunity, 
which  he  knew  he  had  long  desired,  of  returning  to  active  ser- 
vice in  the  field,  and  he  looked  forward  with  all  a  boy's  enthu- 
siasm to  the  time  when  he  himself  should  join  him  there.  His 
father  had  promised  that  as  soon  as  he  had  completed  his  stay 


io8  Who  did  it? 

at  school,  he  would  procure  him  a  commission  in  his  own 
regiment.  And  it  appeared  not  unlikely  that  time  would  come 
before  the  close  of  the  wars  with  Napoleon.  His  father's  de- 
parture appeared  to  him  the  necessary  preliminary  to  the  ac- 
complishment of  his  wishes.  George  asked  also,  too,  and 
obtained  a  favour  which  went  far  to  console  him  for  his  loss. 
This  was,  that  he  might  be  removed  from  Mr  Robson's  school 
and  sent  to  Holmwood  Priory  instead.  Colonel  Alford  per- 
haps was  keen  enough  to  see  that  although  of  late  years  Mrs 
Alford  had  treated  George  with  all  outward  show  of  kindness, 
she  had  no  real  regard  for  him,  as  George  certainly  had  but 
little  for  her.  It  would  be  quite  as  well  that  they  should  not 
be  thrown  so  continually  together,  as  must  be  the  case,  if 
George  continued  in  Wickfield.  It  was  some  comfort  to  him 
to  remember  that  Mr  Wilcoxon,  in  whose  hands  he  had  placed 
much  of  his  affairs,  had  always  expressed  the  greatest  partiality 
for  George.  Indeed,  it  had  been  a  desire  to  show  him  civility 
which  had  caused  the  original  quarrel  with  Miss  Burton  a  year 
or  two  before. 

The  Colonel  accordingly  sailed  for  Lisbon,  and  on  the  day  fol- 
lowing George  was  sent  to  Holmwood  Priory.  Two  other  boys 
who  play  a  leading  part  in  this  story  arrived  also  on  the  same  day 
— Stephen  Graves  and  Charlie  Temple.  There  was  a  curious 
contrast  in  the  manner  in  which  the  three  presented  themselves 
at  Holmwood.  George  arrived  by  the  coach  from  Wickfield, 
having  no  one  but  himself  to  look  after  him.  Mrs  Alford  had 
troubled  herself  no  further  about  the  matter  than  by  sending 
the  butler  down  to  pay  the  boy's  fare,  and  see  his  luggage 
duly  put  into  the  boot.  Graves  was  attended  by  a  servant  in 
livery,  and  came  in  his  guardian's  carriage,  his  luggage  having 


TJie  Lion.  109 

been  despatched  on  the  previous  day  in  a  spring-cart.  But 
Charlie  Temple  was  conveyed  to  Holmwood  by  his  mother 
and  elder  sister,  who  had  travelled  a  considerable  distance,  and 
incurred  a  considerable  expense,  which  they  were  ill  able  to 
afford,  in  order  to  make  sure  that  he  was  comfortably  housed. 

They  slept  at  the  inn  at  Walescliff,  and  the  next  morning 
took  their  leave  of  him  with  many  urgent  entreaties  that  he 
would  make  the  most  of  his  opportunities. 

"  Your  uncle  has  agreed  to  pay  the  expense  of  your  school- 
ing for  the  next  four  years,  Charlie,"  she  said,  "  and  it  was  a 
great  deal  more  than  any  of  us  expected.  If  you  distinguish 
yourself  at  school,  getting  prizes,  and  a  good  report  from  your 
master,  it  is  possible  that  he  may  do  something  more  for  you. 
It  is  not  at  all  certain  that  he  will,  but  there  is  a  good  chance 
of  it.  On  the  other  hand  it  is  quite  certain  that  unless  you  do 
obtain  these  things,  he  will  refuse  to  interest  himself  any  further 
in  you." 

"  My  uncle's  an  old  screw,"  said  Charlie  ungraciously. 
"  There  he  is  over  at  Bordeaux  rolling  up  money,  they  say 
faster  than  he  can  spend  it,  and  has  neither  wife  nor  child  to 
give  it  to.  Why  should  he  grudge  a  little  money  to  his  eldest 
nephew  ?  " 

"  Well,  Charlie,"  said  his  mother  smiling,  "  you  know  that 
you  are  at  present  no  prime  favourite  of  his.  I  am  afraid  he 
has  not  forgotten  the  tricks  you  played  off  upon  him  three 
years  ago,  when  he  was  induced  to  come  and  stay  a  week  with 
us.  You  know  he  went  off  on  the  third  day,  and  has  never 
been  persuaded  to  come  again." 

"  Well,  mother,  I  only  powdered  his  wig  with  Stilton 
cheese,"  said  Charlie.  "  That  wasn't  anything  so  bad,  surely." 


no  Who  did  it? 

"  I  don't  know,  Charlie.  You  had  heard  him  say  that  he 
couldn't  abide  the  smell  of  cheese,  and  had  begged  me  to  send 
it  out  of  the  room.  You  know  how  uncomfortable  he  was  the 
whole  evening." 

"  So  he  was,"  assented  Temple,  bursting  into  a  joyous  laugh 
at  the  recollection  of  the  occurrence  in  question.  "  He 
couldn't  make  it  out  for  a  long  time.  He  kept  insisting  on  it 
that  cheese  had  been  brought  into  the  room,  and  wouldn't 
take  your  assurances  that  it  wasn't  so.  I  meant  to  have  got 
hold  of  his  wig  when  he  went  up  to  bed  and  shaken  the 
cheese-powder  out  of  it.  But  that  sulky  French  valet  of  his — 
Alphonse,  or  whatever  they  called  him — he  wouldn't  keep  the 
secret,  but  went  and  told  his  master,  and  then  he  wrote  you  a 
note,  and  went  off  before  breakfast  next  morning.  If  ever 
I  come  across  that  beastly  sneak  of  a  Frenchman — " 

"  Hush,  Charlie,  no  one  was  to  blame  but  yourself.  Al- 
phonse is  very  much  attached  to  his  master.  Frenchmen 
don't  understand  English  schoolboys,  Charlie.  He  thought 
of  nothing  but  of  the  insult,  as  he  considered  it,  which  had 
been  offered  to  his  master." 

"Well,  never  mind  him,"  said  Charlie,  impatiently.  "I 
don't  suppose  I  shall  come  across  him  again,  and  I  promise 
you,  mother,  I  won't  powder  anybody's  wig  with  cheese  here." 

"  No,"  said  Mrs  Temple,  again  smiling.  "  I  should  think 
you  had  better  not  attempt  anything  like  that ;  I  expect 
Doctor  Thornton  or  Mr  Hepburn  wouldn't  content  themselves 
with  simply  writing  a  note  to  me  about  it.  But  seriously,  you 
must  remember  that  your  prospects  for  life  are  at  stake,  and 
work  hard  and  be  steady  and  well-behaved.  There's  another 
thing  I  have  to  speak  to  you  about,  too.  Your  father's  old 


The  Lion.  \  \  \ 

friend,  Colonel  Wilder,  is  living  here  in  Walescliff,  and  his 
son  Harry,  who  is  about  your  age,  is  living  with  him.  The 
Colonel,  I  believe,  educates  Harry  himself.  Now,  I  have  no 
doubt  the  Colonel  will  show  you  some  kindness  for  your 
father's  sake.  He'll  ask  you  up  to  his  house  on  holidays,  and 
if  he  likes  you,  may  ask  you  to  pass  a  week  or  so  with  him 
during  the  summer.  I  hear  that  his  son  is  something  like 
yourself,  inclined  to  be  mischievous.  The  Colonel,  I  know, 
is  a  very  particular  man.  You  must  be  careful  not  to  get 
into  scrapes  with  Harry  Wilder." 

"I'll  be  sure  to  behave  myself,  mother,"  said  Charlie, 
demurely.  "  I  rather  like  the  look  of  this  place,  and  you 
may  go  away  quite  happy  without  me." 

Mrs  Temple  sighed,  but  she  felt  it  was  no  use  to  say  more, 
and  with  a  parting  embrace  took  leave  of  her  son. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 
GEORGE'S  TROUBLES. 

GEORGE  ALFORD  found  his  life  at  Holmwood  in  most 
respects  a  great  improvement  upon  his  former  school  ex- 
periences. The  school  was  larger,  the  boys  older  and  manlier 
than  those  to  whom  he  had  been  used.  The  premises,  too, 
were  very  superior  to  those  at  Wickfield.  The  schoolroom, 
which  had  once  been,  as  some  said,  the  refectory,  and  others 
the  chapel  of  the  Priory,  was  a  lofty  and  spacious  building. 
The  rooms  of  the  monks  made  small  but  exceedingly  snug 
bedchambers.  There  was  a  famous  cricket  field,  in  which  all 
manner  of  games  were  wont  to  be  played.  Above  all  there 
was  the  sea-shore,  with  its  harbour  completely  land-locked, 
in  which  there  was  good  bathing  and  rowing  and  sailing ;  as 
well  as  the  deep  sea  itself,  upon  which  they  were  occasionally 
allowed  to  go  out  under  the  care  of  experienced  sailors. 
Clement  was  as  acceptable  a  companion  as  ever.  He  intro- 
duced George  to  the  friends  he  had  made  at  Holmwood, 
chief  among  whom  were  Cressingham  and  Lander.  Side  by 
side  these  four  boys  shouldered  their  way  up  through  the 
school  during  the  first  two  years  of  their  residence  there, 
until  they  reached  the  second  class.  George  continued  to 


George  s  Troubles.  113 

receive  continual  reports  from  his  father,  always  full  of  stirring 
interest.  He  had  been  slightly  wounded  at  the  great  battle 
of  Vittoria,  and  was  now  Lieutenant-Colonel  of  his  regiment. 
He  had  been  present  at  San  Sebastian  also,  and  expected  to 
receive  the  rank  of  Brigadier-General  in  the  course  of  a  few 
weeks.  These  letters  George  used  to  read  out  to  his  three 
friends  in  a  corner  of  the  playing  field  (where  they  had  con- 
structed a  kind  of  arbour)  to  the  great  delight  of  himself  and 
his  hearers.  Sometimes  the  magnates  of  the  school,  even  the 
four  seniors  themselves,  whom  the  juniors  regarded  with  the 
utmost  awe  and  deference,  would  send  for  George,  and  ask 
him  to  read  out  these  despatches,  which  he  did  with  great  pride 
and  satisfaction. 

The  only  drawback  to  his  happiness  was  that  he  could  not 
enjoy  Clement's  society  during  the  holidays.  Miss  Burton  per- 
sisted in  her  resolution  not  to  permit  Clement  to  visit  Wick- 
field.  Indeed,  as  a  report  had  now  reached  her  ears  that 
the  odious  Mr  Wilcoxon  was  in  greater  favour  than  ever  in 
East  Street,  she  would  have  nothing  more  to  say  to  any  of  the 
Alford  family.  The  two  boys  were  obliged  to  console  them- 
selves as  well  as  they  could  by  retailing  to  one  another,  on  the 
first  day  of  the  new  half-year,  all  that  had  taken  place  during 
the  holidays.  There  was  generally  a  good  batch  of  informa- 
tion to  be  imparted  by  both  parties. 

"  It  has  been  precious  dull  at  Wickfield,  Clem,"  said  George 
on  one  oT  these  occasions.  ' "  If  it  hadn't  been  for  the  Bowles's, 
I  think  I  should  have  gone  melancholy  mad — the  Bowles's 
and  Frank  Knyvett  kept  me  alive." 

"  The  Bowles's,"  repeated  Clement.     "  Old  Bowles  and  his 

H 


ii4  Who  did  it? 

wife,  I  suppose,  eh  ?  The  old  lady  usedn't  to  be  such  particu- 
larly good  company  either." 

"  Old  mother  Bowles  ! "  exclaimed  George.  "  No,  I  should 
think  not.  I  wasn't  speaking  of  her.  I  was  speaking  of 
Bowles's  two  sons.  They  have  come  home — don't  you  know? 
— came  home  three  or  four  months  ago." 

"  No,  I  didn't  know  it,"  said  Burton.  "  Old  Bowles  is 
pleased  at  that,  I  should  think." 

"  Pleased  ?  Yes,  I  should  think  he  just  was,"  returned 
Alford.  "  He  hadn't  got  over  being  jolly  about  it  when  I 
went  home.  They  had  brought  back  a  pot  of  money,  and  had 
paid  off  the  old  man's  debts  and  bought  back  the  furniture  he 
had  pawned,  and  they  were  all  living  together  as  comfortable 
as  any  people  I  ever  saw." 

"Were  the  young  fellows  as  jolly  as  their  father ?"  asked 
Clement. 

"Yes,  regular  chips  of  the  old  block,"  said  George.  "Tom 
Bowles  is  the  best  fellow  I  ever  came  across;  and  Bill,  too,  is  a 
good  sort  of  chap,  though  he's  a  bit  cross-grained  now  and  then. 
They  used  to  take  me  about  almost  every  day — sometimes  to 
fish  at  the  Weirs  down-stream,  sometimes  right  out  to  sea. 
We  were  out  for  hours  together.  Once  we  were  out  all  night ; 
at  least  we  were  out  so  late  that  I  had  to  sleep  at  their  house 
for  the  rest  of  the  night." 

"  Out  all  night !  "  repeated  Burton.  "  How  did  Mrs  Alford 
like  that?" 

"  She  didn't  like  it  at  all,"  said  George.  "  There's  no  great 
love  lost  between  me  and  her,  you  know,Clem.  Still,  I  shouldn't 
have  minded  so  much  if  she'd  rowed  me  herself,  but  she  got 
that  fellow  Wilcoxon  to  do  it,  and  I  could  not  stand  that." 


Georges  Troubles.  115 

"  Wilcoxon !  "  exclaimed  Clement.  "  What  has  he  got  to 
do  with  it  ?  " 

"  He  thinks  he  has  something,"  said  Alford.  "  He  came 
round  my  father,  somehow  or  other,  before  he  went,  and  he 
left  some  of  his  affairs  in  his  hands.  I  am  sure  my  father 
didn't  understand  what  kind  of  a  fellow  he  really  is,  or  he 
wouldn't  have  done  that." 

"  What  is  he  doing  in  Wickfield  ?  There  was  some  talk  of 
his  building  a  factory  or  something  of  that  kind  there,  wasn't 
there?" 

"  Yes,  he  has  bought  up  that  old  shipbuilding  yard,  close  to 
which  the  Bowles's  live,  you  know." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Burton  ;  "  that's  where  we  lost  our  way 
that  night." 

"  Just  so.  He  bought  the  yard  for  an  old  song,  and  has 
turned  it  into  a  nail-factory.  They  say  he's  doing  a  roaring 
business." 

"  How  does  Bowles  like  him  for  a  neighbour  ?  " 

"  He  doesn't  like  him  at  all,"  said  George.  "  There's  a  very 
unpleasant  stench  from  the  works  sometimes,  when  the  water 
is  a  good  deal  fouled.  Old  Bowles  threatened  to  go  to  law 
with  him  if  he  didn't  stop  the  nuisance.  His  sons  having 
come  home  with  some  money,  would  enable  him  to  do  so,  you 
see.  Wilcoxon  was  very  much  taken  aback,  and  lost  his  tem- 
per, they  said.  He  gave  old  Bowles  so  much  offence,  that 
when  afterwards  he  wanted  to  buy  up  Bowles's  property  to 
enlarge  his  factory,  the  old  man  wouldn't  let  him  have  it  at  any 
price." 

"  I  didn't  know  that  Bowles's  cottage  was  his  own  property." 

"  It  isn't,  but  Bowles  has  a  long  lease  of  it,  and  that's  what 


H  6  Who  did  it? 

he  wont  give  up.  Wilcoxon  tried  to  come  round  him  cun- 
ningly, but  he  failed." 

"  What  did  he  do  ?  "  asked  Clement. 

"  He  went  to  old  Bagster,  the  landlord,  and  offered  him  a 
large  sum  for  the  place,  if  he  could  get  the  Bowles's  out. 
Bagster  said  he  should  be  glad  to  accommodate  Wilcoxon,  but 
he  didn't  see  how  he  could  get  the  Bowles's  out,  if  they 
wouldn't  go.  Wilcoxon,  they  say,  asked  him  to  let  him  see 
a  copy  of  Bowles's  lease,  and  there  he  found  that  the  tenant 
was  obliged  to  keep  the  premises  in  a  complete  state  of  repair. 
'  You  can  get  rid  of  him  easily  enough,'  Wilcoxon  said,  when 
he  had  read  it.  '  Bowles's  house  is  in  a  very  bad  state,  it 
would  cost  more  money  than  he  has  got  to  set  it  right.  You 
have  nothing  to  do  but  to  serve  him  with  a  notice  to  execute 
the  repairs  required  under  the  lease.'  He  didn't  know  at  that 
time,  you  see,  about  the  young  Bowles's  having  brought  home 
money.  To  his  surprise  the  old  man  answered  Bagster  that 
he  was  just  on  the  point  of  ordering  the  repairs  to  be  done,  so 
Wilcoxon  took  nothing  by  his  motion." 

"  He  was  utterly  floored  in  fact,"  suggested  Burton. 

"  Well,  not  quite,"  returned  the  other.  "  There  was  a 
clause  in  Bowles's  lease,  which  enabled  the  landlord  to  raise 
the  rent  if  the  property  was  improved.  He  gave  old  Bagster 
his  price  for  it,  and  then  proceeded  to  make  what  he  called 
some  improvements,  built  a  wall  all  round,  and  a  lot  of  out- 
houses, and  then  insisted  on  Bowles  paying  a  heavy  rent  for 
these.  The  old  chap  went  to  Frank  Knyvett's  father  and 
told  his  story,  and  Knyvett  said  that  if  Bowles  hadn't  asked 
that  these  improvements  should  be  made,  and  Mr  Wilcoxon 
couldn't  show  that  they  were  absolutely  necessary,  the  tenant 


Georges  Troubles.  \  1 7 

couldn't  be  charged  with  them.  So  old  Ironhead,  as  we  call 
him,  was  sold  again." 

"  And  I  suppose  he's  pretty  savage,"  suggested  Clements. 

"  He  may  be  inwardly,"  said  Alford.  "  But  he's  too  clever 
a  fellow  ever  to  show  that  he's  put  out.  He's  as  smooth  as 
oil  always.  But  Bowles  doesn't  trust  him.  He  says  he's  sure 
he's  up  to  some  further  dodge  now,  though  for  his  part  he 
doesn't  care  what  Mr  Wilcoxon  may  do." 

"  I  wonder  how  Mrs  Alford  can  like  him,"  observed  Burton. 
"  I  should  have  thought  everyone  would  have  hated  a  sneak 
like  that." 

"  Well,  she  does  like  him,  that's  certain,"  said  George ;  "  she 
consults  him  on  all  occasions.  She  can't  engage  a  new  ser- 
vant, or  alter  one  of  the  flower-beds  in  the  garden,  without 
taking  his  advice." 

"  Is  he  civil  to  you,  George  ?  "  asked  his  schoolfellow. 

"  A  deal  too  civil,"  said  Alford.  "  Butter  wouldn't  melt  in  his 
mouth  when  he  speaks  to  me.  It  is  all  about  the  regard  he 
has  for  my  mother,  and  the  promise  he  had  made  to  my  father, 
and  the  special  interest  he  takes  in  myself,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing.  He  doesn't  get  much  change  out  of  me.  I  think  he's 
beginning  to  find  out  that  I'm  not  to  be  bamboozled." 

"  What  was  the  last  news  from  your  father?  " 

"  Oh,  all  right.  My  father  has  got  his  rank  as  Major- 
General,  and  will  be  coming  home  before  long.  Three  regi- 
ments were  sent  from  Paris  to  Ireland,  but  they  are  not  to 
stay  there  any  length  of  time.  At  all  events  he'll  come  home 
on  leave  in  the  spring,  he  says.  I  hope  he'll  make  arrange- 
ments about  getting  my  commission  as  soon  as  he  comes 
home." 


n8  Who  did  it? 

"  Well,  George,  it  will  be  great  fun  seeing  you  in  your  new 
uniform,"  said  Clement,  smiling  at  his  friend's  eagerness,  "  but 
I  am  afraid  you  wont  get  any  fighting.  Boney  is  shut  up  in 
the  Isle  of  Elba,  and  wont  fight  any  more." 

"Oh,  there  will  be  sure  to  be  fighting  somewhere,"  said 
George.  "  They  have  got  too  well  used  to  it  on  the  Continent 
to  give  it  up  just  yet.  Heigho  !  I  wish  the  spring  would 
come.  I  am  getting  tired  of  grinding  at  Latin  and  Greek  and 
the  Rule  of  Three." 

The  spring  did  come  ;  but  it  did  not  bring  General  Alford, 
as  George  had  hoped.  He  had  obtained  the  leave  for  which 
he  had  applied,  when  suddenly  came  the  news  of  Napoleon's 
escape  from  Elba,  and  the  armies  of  Europe  were  again  called 
into  the  field.  All  the  regiments  under  General  Alford's  com- 
mand were  despatched  in  hot  haste  to  Belgium,  and  the 
General  of  course  went  with  them.  The  most  intense  anxiety 
was  felt  all  over  England.  Nothing  else  was  talked  of  in  any 
society  except  the  approaching  struggle.  Napoleon  had  been 
acknowledged  as  Emperor  by  the  French  people,  had  collected 
an  army — not  so  numerous,  it  is  true,  as  those  with  which  he 
had  so  often  overwhelmed  the  great  continental  Powers,  but 
formidable  nevertheless,  because  containing  so  large  a  propor- 
tion of  veteran  troops.  The  Prussians  who  were  opposed  to 
him  were  not  thought  equal  to  coping  with  him.  Then  there 
was  the  Great  Duke,  who  had  never  yet  been  defeated,  but  who 
also  had  never  yet  measured  swords  with  the  Great  Soldier  of 
the  nineteenth  century.  The  duel  between  these  two  re- 
nowned champions  was  awaited  with  an  intensity  of  interest 
which  only  those  who  lived  at  that  time  could  understand. 

It   will  readily  be   believed   that   George   Alford's   whole 


George's  Troubles.  119 

thoughts  were  engrossed  by  it,  and  the  joys  of  the  cricket- 
field  were  but  tame  in  comparison.  The  General  wrote 
frequently  to  his  son,  knowing  how  anxious  he  would  be  to 
hear  from  him.  George  heard  of  his  arrival  in  Brussels,  of 
the  gallant  struggle  at  Quatre  Bras,  and  of  the  advance  to 
Waterloo.  The  General's  letter,  dated  the  i;th  of  June, 
informed  his  son  that  the  Duke  had  taken  up  his  position  on 
the  heights  of  Mont  Saint  Jean,  and  that  a  pitched  battle  was 
imminent  on  the  following  day.  The  excitement  of  the  next 
four-and-twenty  hours  was  too  great  for  description.  George's 
thoughts  were  so  completely  occupied  by  it,  that  he  could  turn 
them  to  nothing  else,  and  the  masters,  compassionating  his 
anxiety,  passed  over  his  shortcomings  without  notice.  To- 
wards evening  a  report  was  current  in  Walescliff,  brought 
down  it  was  said  by  the  mail  from  London,  that  a  terrible 
battle  had  been  fought,  and  a  great  victory  won  by  the 
English.  But  it  appeared  to  be  nothing  more  than  a  mere 
rumour ;  and  in  those  days  so  many  rumours  were  rife,  which 
afterwards  proved  to  be  wholly  unfounded,  that  people  were 
only  half  inclined  to  believe  it. 

On  the  following  morning  a  visitor  arrived  for  George,  in 
the  person  of  Mr  Wilcoxon.  He  had  come  to  break  the  dis- 
astrous intelligence  of  the  terrible  slaughter  of  the  i8th,  which, 
it  has  been  truly  said,  threw  half  England  into  mourning. 
General  Taylor  had  despatched  a  letter  from  the  field  to  Mrs 
Alford,  informing  her  that  her  husband  had  been  killed  by 
one  of  the  last  guns  which  the  enemy  had  discharged,  at  the 
very  end  of  the  battle,  just  as  the  charge  of  the  Guards  had 
begun,  which  threw  the  enemy  into  irrecoverable  disorder.  His 
death  had  been  instantaneous,  but  he  had  before  the  battle 


120  WJtodidit? 

informed  General  Taylor  that  he  had  made  his  will  and  all 
other  necessary  arrangements,  and  requested  his  friend,  in  the 
event  of  his  death,  to  write  to  Mrs  Alford.  Mr  Wilcoxon 
went  on  to  say  that  his  mother  wished  him  to  return  immedi- 
ately to  Wickfield. 

The  poor  lad  was  utterly  crushed  by  the  blow.  Youth  is 
ever  sanguine,  and  the  possibility  of  such  a  termination  to  his 
father's  career  had  never  entered  his  thoughts.  He  made  no 
objection  to  his  step-mother's  proposal.  The  meeting 
between  himself  and  Mrs  Alford  was  a  cordial  one;  for  though 
she  had  not  regarded  her  husband  with  the  intensity  of  affec- 
tion felt  by  George,  she  had  nevertheless  been  sincerely 
attached  to  him.  During  the  summer  holidays  all  went 
quietly  enough,  nor  was  there  any  serious  outbreak  in  those 
which  followed  in  December  and  January,  though  something 
of  the  old  feeling  had  before  the  end  of  the  winter  vacation 
begun  to  show  itself.  Mr  Wilcoxon  was  now  frequently  in 
East  Street ;  George  declared  that  he  was  always  there,  and 
his  dislike  to  that  gentleman  was  by  no  means  diminished  by 
the  fact,  that  the  latter  had  now  in  a  great  measure  laid  aside 
the  semblance  of  cordiality  he  had  hitherto  affected,  and 
adopted  a  tone  which  gave  the  lad  still  deeper  offence.  He 
now  avoided  Mr  Wilcoxon  as  much  as  possible,  passing  all 
his  time  with  the  Bowles's,  notwithstanding  the  open  quarrel 
between  them  and  Mr  Wilcoxon.  Cold  as  the  weather  was, 
he  went  out  fishing  and  rowing  with  them  every  day,  Frank 
Knyvett  occasionally  joining  the  party.  George  left  East  Street 
immediately  after  breakfast,  only  returning  in  time  for  the  late 
dinner.  He  received  one  or  two  hints,  in  the  course  of  the 
winter,  that  this  constant  companionship  with  Bowles  was  not 


George's  Troubles.  121 

agreeable  to  Mrs  Alford.  The  man  had  behaved  with  great 
insolence  to  her  valued  friend,  Mr  Wilcoxon.  It  did  not 
become  any  one  nearly  connected  with  her  to  uphold 
him. 

George  paid  no  heed  to  these  hints ;  and  when  he  came  in 
June  for  his  summer  holidays,  Mrs  Alford  was  obliged  to 
speak  explicitly  on  the  subject. 

The  lad  answered,  that  if  he  was  obliged  to  give  up  the 
Bowles's,  his  life  would  be  too  dull  for  endurance.  Except 
Frank  Knyvett,  he  had  no  one  but  them. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  she  replied  tartly,  "  that  my  house  is  so  dis- 
agreeable to  you,  but  I  do  not  know  how  it  is  to  be  helped. 
The  holidays  at  Holmwood,  as  you  know,  have  only  just 
begun,  and  they  will  last  for  fully  six  weeks.  You  can't  go 
back  to  Walescliff  till  then,  even  if  it  should  be  thought  desir- 
able that  you  should  return  to  Dr  Thornton's  at  all." 

"Return  there!"  repeated  George.  "I  don't  want  to 
return  there.  I  don't  think  my  father  would  have  sent  me 
there  last  half.  I  am  past  seventeen,  and  he  always  intended 
to  apply  for  my  commission,  as  soon  as  my  seventeenth  birth- 
day came.  I  don't  see  why  it  should  not  be  applied  for  at 
once.  General  Taylor,  you  know,  said  in  his  letter,  that  it 
would  be  a  great  satisfaction  to  him  to  do  anything  that 
would  show  his  respect  for  my  father's  memory.  He  could 
get  me  a  pair  of  colours,  merely  for  the  asking." 

"  Go  into  the  army ! "  exclaimed  Mrs  Alford,  apparently 
much  surprised.  "  Do  you  imagine  your  father  intended  that 
George?" 

"Intended  it !"  repeated  George,  impetuously.  "Why  you 
know,  quite  well,  he  intended  it — always  intended  it !  He 


122  Who  did  it? 

has  spoken  to  me  about   it   a  hundred  times.      He   never 
intended  anything  else." 

"  He  never  expressed  any  such  intention  to  me,"  said  Mrs 
Alford.  "  I  think  you  must  be  mistaken.  However,  I  will 
speak  to  Mr  Wilcoxon  on  the  subject.  You  know,  of  course, 
that  my  income  is  greatly  reduced  by  your  father's  death." 

"  The  cost  of  the  commission,  even  if  it  should  have  to  be 
paid  for,"  said  George,  "will  come  out  of  my  money,  and  not 
yours." 

"  Your  money,"  repeated  Mrs  Alford,  "the  money  which 
will  be  yours,  you  mean,  if  you  should  live  to  come  of  age. 
But  that  will  not  be  for  several  years  yet  to  come ;  and,  mean- 
while, the  disposal  of  it  does  not  rest  with  you.  However,  as 
I  said  before,  I  will  consult  Mr  Wilcoxon  on  the  subject." 

"  Why  is  he  to  be  consulted  ?"  cried  George.  "  What  have 
I  to  do  with  him  or  he  with  me,  that  he  is  always  to  be  med- 
dling in  my  affairs  ?" 

"  His  right  to  meddle  is,  that  he  is  the  executor  of  your 
father's  will,  and  will  be  jointly  with  me,  your  guardian." 

"  I  did  not  know  that,"  exclaimed  George,  in  a  tone  of 
mingled  surprise  and  dismay.  "  I  don't  think  that  can  be  so. 
I  never  heard  a  hint  of  that  before." 

"  I  don't  suppose  your  father  thought  it  necessary  to  consult 
you  on  the  subject,"  said  Mrs  Alford.  "  But  if  you  like  to  go 
up  to  Mr  Knyvett,  your  friend  Frank's  father,  you  may  see  a 
copy  of  your  father's  will,  and  satisfy  yourself  on  the  subject." 

George  put  on  his  hat,  and  went  straight  up  to  the  attor- 
ney's office.  Mr  Knyvett,  whose  name  has  been  several  times 
mentioned,  was  a  worthy  man,  the  solicitor  with  the  largest 
practice  in  the  neighbourhood.  He  was  Miss  Burton's  man  of 


Georges  Troubles.  123 

business,  the  reader  will  remember,  as  well  as  General  Alford's, 
and  he  had  always  been  friendly  with  George.  He  received 
him  now  with  great  kindness,  but  in  reply  to  his  anxious  ques- 
tions, was  obliged  to  inform  him  that  his  step-mother  had 
stated  the  facts  correctly. 

"Your  father  left  in  rather  a  hurry,  George,"  he  said,  "  and 
had  no  time  to  write  to  friends  who  lived  at  a  distance,  or  he 
might  have  chosen  some  one  else.  Mr  Wilcoxon,  too,  had 
done  him  some  considerable  service,  and  Mrs  Alford  was 
particularly  anxious  that  he  should  be  executor." 

Mr  Knyvett  glanced  furtively  at  George's  face  as  he  said 
this,  and  saw  an  expression  of  dissatisfaction  overspread  it  as 
he  heard  the  words. 

"  I  can't  think  what  she  can  see  in  that  Wilcoxon,"  he  broke 
out,  hotly,  "that  she  is  always  having  him  up  at  East  Street. 
I  hate  him,  and  he  hates  me,  though  he  pretends  he  doesn't." 

Mr  Knyvett  stepped  to  the  door,  and  carefully  closed  it. 
"  That's  unlucky,  my  lad,"  said  he.  "  Look  here,  George,  I 
am  not  in  the  habit  of  telling  secrets — particularly  not  to  boys 
of  your  age.  But  I  think  you  ought  to  know  what  I  know — 
what  everyone  will  know,  in  fact,  before  long.  Can  you  guess 
it,  George  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  she  is  going  to  marry  him,"  said  George.  "  I 
have  thought  it  might  not  be  for  a  long  time,  only  that  I  can't 
conceive  it  possible  that  she  could  do  it.  And  then,  I  suppose, 
he'll  call  himself  my  father,  and  order  me  about  as  he  pleases. 
I'll  never  call  him  so,  at  all  events.  And  he  may  order  me, 
but  I  don't  think  he'll  catch  me  obeying  him." 

"  That  is  just  what  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about,  George. 
I  have  your  father's  will  here.  I  didn't  draw  it,  and  it  was 


124  Who  did  it? 

sent  to  me  sealed  up,  only  to  be  opened  after  his  death.  But 
I  see  the  most  complete  powers  are  given  under  it  to  the 
executors  to  invest  your  property,  until  you  come  of  age,  in 
any  way  they  think  proper.  Now,  I  daresay  you  have  your 
own  views  as  to  what  profession  you  would  like  to  follow — " 

"  My  father  always  meant  me  to  be  in  the  army,"  interposed 
George.  "Everyone  knew  that;  my  step-mother  knew  it 
perfectly,  I  am  sure,  though  she  says  she  didn't." 

"  She  says  she  didn't,  eh  ?  Then  depend  upon  it  Mr  Wil- 
coxon  says  so  too." 

"  Isn't  there  anything  about  it  in  the  will,  sir  ?  "  said  George, 
anxiously,  "or  in  any  of  his  papers?  He  mentioned  the 
subject  to  me  over  and  over  again  in  his  letters,  but,  unluckily, 
I  never  kept  them." 

"Unluckily,  indeed,"  repeated  Mr  Knyvett.  "I  won't 
deceive  you,  George.  There  is  very  little  chance  of  Mr  Wil- 
coxon's  allowing  you  to  go  into  the  army,  if  it  depends  upon 
him.  He  is  a  member  of  the  Peace  Society,  and  professes  to 
think  all  war  wicked,  and  Mrs  Alford  will  do  whatever  he 
recommends.  You  asked  just  now  whether  there  might  not 
be  something  on  this  subject  in  General  Alford's  papers.  That 
is  certainly  possible.  But  I  have  never  seen  his  papers ;  they 
have  always  been  in  Mrs  Alford's  keeping." 

"And  she  wouldn't  bring  them  out,  unless  it  suited  her 
purpose  to  do  so,"  said  George,  bitterly.  "  Well,  go  on,  sir, 
you  have  something  more  to  tell  me." 

"  Yes,  one  or  two  things.  I  have  reason  to  know,  and  you 
ought  to  know  it  too,  that  Mr  Wilcoxon  contemplates  invest- 
ing your  money  in  a  different  manner.  He  wants  to  put  it 
into  the  business  in  which  he  himself  is  engaged." 


George's  Troubles.  125 

"  What,  the  nail  factory  ?  "  exclaimed  George.  "  That  place 
that  he  has  built  down  by  old  Bowles's  cottage  ?  You  don't 
mean  he  wants  to  put  my  money  into  that  ?  " 

"  He  does  though,"  said  Mr  Knyvett.  "  He  says  that  it  is 
not  only  the  best  possible  mode  of  employing  your  money,  but 
the  best  opening  in  life  for  yourself  also.  He  means  to  appoint 
you  to  a  clerkship  in  the  factory,  and  in  time,  if  you  give 
satisfaction,  to  a  junior  partnership." 

"  I  won't  do  it,"  shouted  George,  passionately.  "  I'll  run 
away,  and  enlist  as  a  common  soldier  first !  Can't  he  be  pre- 
vented in  any  way  from  doing  it,  sir  ?  " 

"  Hem,"  said  Mr  Knyvett,  "  not  by  your  running  away  and 
enlisting,  George,  certainly.  Well,  Mr  Wilcoxon  is  not  the  sole 
executor  ;  there  are  two." 

"  Ah,  but  I  suppose  my  step-mother  is  the  other,"  suggested 
George,  despondently. 

"  No,"  returned  Mr  Knyvett.  "  The  other  executor  is  a 
gentleman  with  whom  I  am  not  acquainted,  though  possibly 
you  may  be.  It  is  a  certain  Major  Baynton.  Do  you  know 
him?" 

"  Know  him,"  cried  George,  joyfully.  "  I  should  think  I 
did.  He  is  the  best  fellow  that  ever  lived.  My  father  and  I 
went  to  stay  with  him  nearly  all  the  summer  holidays  two  years 
ago.  It  will  be  all  right  now.  He  knows  my  father's  wishes 
about  my  going  into  the  army  as  well  as  I  do  myself.  He 
won't  let  old  Wilcoxon  bully  me.  Hooray,  hooray !  I'll  write 
a  letter  to  him  immediately,  or  perhaps  you  wouldn't  mind 
doing  so,  sir  ?  " 

"  Stop  a  minute,  George ;  you're  getting  on  too  fast.  Major 
Baynton  is  named  executor,  but  no  one  knows  where  Major 


126  Who  did  it? 

Baynton  is.  He  sailed  with  his  regiment  for  the  United  States 
of  America,  when  the  war  broke  out  between  us  and  them, 
and  was  present  at  the  battle  of  New  Orleans,  where  we  got  so 
sharply  handled  by  the  Yankees.  He  has  never  been  heard 
of  since  that  day.  His  name  was  not  in  the  Gazette  among 
the  killed  or  wounded,  but  he  was  reported  as  missing.  I  have 
never  had  any  reply  to  the  letter  which  I  addressed  to  New 
Orleans  on  the  chance  of  finding  him,  immediately  after  your 
father's  death.  He  may  have  been  severely  wounded,  and  be 
still  lying  in  one  of  the  hospitals  in  New  Orleans.  But  I  fear 
the  chances  are  that  he  is  dead." 

"  Hasn't  he  any  friends  in  England,  sir,  who  would  know 
about  him  ?  " 

"  None,  so  far  as  I  can  ascertain,"  replied  the  lawyer.  "  Well 
now,  George,  I  have  told  you  this  in  order  that  you  may 
understand  exactly  what  your  position  is.  If  Major  Baynton 
is  really  dead,  you  are  wholly  in  Mr  Wilcoxon's  power — " 

"  That  I  never  will  be,"  broke  in  the  lad  impetuously. 

"  Be  quiet.  Mr  Wilcoxon  professes  to  feel  quite  certain 
that  he  is  now  the  sole  executor.  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  find 
out  whether  the  Major  is  still  living.  Meanwhile,  I  earnestly 
advise  you  to  do  nothing  to  provoke  your  step-mother.  Of 
course  you  will  say  nothing  to  any  one  of  your  interview  with 
me." 

George  promised,  and  withdrew.  He  obeyed  Mr  Knyvett's 
instructions  so  far,  that  he  did  not  reveal  what  had  passed  to 
any  one,  except  his  friend  Clement,  from  whom  he  could  keep 
nothing  secret.  But  he  was  unwise  enough  to  attempt  a  re- 
monstrance with  his  step-mother,  in  the  course  of  which  he 
spoke  in  such  terms  of  Mr  Wilcoxon  as  roused  that  lady  to  a 


Georges  Troubles.  127 

pitch  of  anger  which  she  rarely  displayed.  She  told  him  that 
her  house  would  no  longer  be  open  to  him,  unless  he  treated 
his  future  father  with  the  respect  due  to  him.  As  for  the  em- 
ployment of  George's  money  in  the  manner  contemplated  by 
Mr  Wilcoxon,  George  ought  to  be  grateful  to  him  for  the  kind 
consideration  shown  him,  notwithstanding  his  insolence  and 
ingratitude.  If  he  did  not  choose  to  take  the  clerkship  so 
kindly  offered  to  him,  he  might  go  without  it.  Neither  she 
nor  her  future  husband  would  in  that  case  trouble  themselves 
any  further  about  him.  For  her  part  she  had  already  put  up 
with  more  from  him  than  from  any  other  person  in  the  world, 
and  she  was  resolved  to  endure  no  more. 

They  parted  in  mutual  anger,  and  the  same  evening  Mrs 
Alford  communicated  to  her  fiance'  the  particulars  of  her  inter- 
view with  her  step-son.  Mr  Wilcoxon  took  advantage  of  it  to 
hasten  the  nuptials,  which  were,  as  a  mark  of  respect  to  General 
Alford's  memory,  to  have  been  deferred  for  two  months  more. 

"  I  am  the  executor  of  General  Alford's  will,"  he  said,  "but 
you  are  named  in  it  as  the  boy's  guardian.  I  cannot  act  in 
your  name  very  well  until  I  am  your  husband.  The  sooner 
this  troublesome  boy  is  put  down  the  better.  We  mean  our 
marriage  to  be  quite  private,  you  know.  Why  shouldn't  the 
wedding  take  place  at  once  ?  " 

Mrs  Alford  allowed  herself  to  be  persuaded,  and  in  a  week 
from  that  time  the  ceremony  was  performed.  It  was  as  Mr 
Wilcoxon  had  intimated,  as  quiet  as  possible,  nobody  being 
present  but  Mr  Wilcoxon's  relative,  the  army  agent,  and  his 
wife,  as  witnesses.  Immediately  after  the  conclusion  of  the 
rite,  Mr  Wilcoxon  made  the  formal  offer  of  the  clerkship  to 
George.  He  found  the  lad  mooning  alone  in  the  garden.  He 


128  Who  did  it? 

had  not  chosen  to  be  present  in  the  church,  and  he  felt  too 
much  out  of  heart  to  go  about  any  of  his  favourite  employ- 
ments. He  answered  Mr  Wilcoxon  shortly  that  he  did  not 
like  the  life  suggested  to  him.  He  would  rather  be  anything 
than  a  clerk  in  a  factory. 

"  You  will  find  it  difficult  to  be  anything  else,"  said  Mr 
Wilcoxon  quietly.  "  Your  mother  tells  me —  " 

"  My  mother  is  dead,"  said  George.  "  You  mean  Mrs 
Wilcoxon,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  do  mean  Mrs  Wilcoxon,  young  gentleman,"  returned 
the  other ;  "  and  you  will  be  pleased  henceforth  to  speak  of 
her  by  that  name.  She  tells  me  that  you  wish  to  enter  the 
army." 

"  I  wish  my  father's  promise  to  be  performed,"  exclaimed 
George. 

"  His  promise,"  repeated  Mr  Wilcoxon.  "  There  is  no 
evidence  that  he  made  such  a  promise.  And  if  he  had,"  he 
continued,  sharply,  as  he  saw  George  about  to  interrupt  him, 
"  if  he  had,  my  conscience  would  not  allow  anything  of  the 
kind  to  be  done." 

"  Your  conscience —  "  began  George,  contemptuously. 

"  My  conscience,"  repeated  Mr  Wilcoxon,  more  sternly  than 
before.  "Just  attend  to  me.  Mrs  Wilcoxon  and  myself  are 
going  away  presently,  and  do  not  mean  to  return  to  Wickfield 
for  nearly  two  months.  You  have  that  time  to  reconsider 
this  matter.  I  shall  hear  your  final  resolve  when  I  come 
back.  If  you  reject  my  offers  then,  I  shall  not  repeat  them." 


CHAPTER    IX. 

GEORGE'S  LETTER. 

"PooR  George,"  said  Cressingham,  when  Burton  had 
reached  this  point  in  the  narrative  ;  "  it  is  hard  lines  upon  him 
indeed  !  On  what  day  did  Mrs  Alford's  marriage  take  place  ? 
Do  you  happen  to  know  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Burton.  "  I  know  it,  because  George  wrote  to 
me  on  that  very  day.  It  was  the  sixteenth  of  June." 

"  And  her  husband  was  killed  on  the  eighteenth  of  June  in 
the  previous  year !  "  said  Cressingham.  "  It  is  a  pity  she  did 
not  wait  two  days  more.  That  would  have  been  a  remarkable 
way  of  celebrating  the  anniversary  of  his  death  !  She  must  be 
a  strange  article,  that  lady  ! " 

"  Yes,  one  would  think  it  must  have  been  done  to  insult 
General  Alford's  memory,"  observed  Burton,  "  only  that  one 
knows  from  George  that  she  had  a  reason  for  having  it  then. 
Anyway,  however,  it  shows  that  she  cared  very  little  for 
appearances.  As  for  Wilcoxon,  I  don't  suppose  he  cared  for 
them  at  all." 

"  The  two  months  must  be  pretty  nearly  up  now,"  said 
Cressingham.  "  Has  George  been  living  all  this  time  at 
Wickfield  ? " 

i 


1 30  Who  did  it  ? 

"Yes,"  replied  Burton,  "living  all  alone  by  himself  in  his 
step-mother's  house.  He  would  willingly  have  been  anywhere 
else,  but  he  couldn't  help  himself.  My  aunt  refused  to  allow 
me  to  invite  him  over  here,  and  she  wouldn't  let  me  go  over 
to  Wickfield  to  see  him.  She  is  so  furious  with  Mrs  Alford 
for  having  married  Wilcoxon,  that  she  can  hardly  endure 
the  mention  of  the  name.  I  judge  poor  old  George  has 
had  a  hard  time  of  it.  It  will  come  to  an  end  soon  now  ; 
but  I  fear  he  wont  be  much  the  better  for  it  when  it  does." 

"  What,  the  Wilcoxons  are  coming  back  ?  "  suggested  Cress- 
ingham. 

"  Yes,"  returned  Burton.  "  I  received  a  letter  about  ten 
days  ago,  telling  me  what  had  happened  during  the  last  fort- 
night. Would  you  like  to  hear  the  letter,  Fred?  There  is 
nothing  in  it,  but  what  you  may  hear.  He  says  I  may  read 
it  to  you." 

"  I  should  like  it  very  much,"  said  Cressingham.  "  Let  us 
sit  down  under  the  shade  of  this  oak,  and  you  can  read  it  out." 

They  sat  down  accordingly  among  the  roots  of  the  old  tree, 
and  Burton  took  out  George's  letter,  which  covered  four  sides 
of  one  of  the  large  sheets  of  paper  of  those  days. 

EAST  STREET,  WICKFIELD, 
August  tf/i,  1816. 

MY  DEAR  CLEM, — I  told  you  in  my  last  that  I  had  heard 
nothing  from  Mr  Wilcoxon  or  Mrs  Wilcoxon  either,  since  they 
left  England ;  nor  had  any  of  the  servants  heard.  To-day, 
however,  there  has  come  a  letter  to  the  housekeeper,  telling 
her  that  they  were  setting  off  on  their  homeward  journey,  and 
will  be  in  Wickfield  in  about  a  fortnight.  Then  I  suppose 


Georges  Letter.  131 

we  shall  have  it  out.  It  wont  be  a  pleasant  business,  I  ex- 
pect. Mr  Knyvett  has  failed,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  in  learning 
anything  about  Major,  or,  as  it  appears,  he  ought  to  be  called 
Colonel  Baynton.  Mr  Knyvett  has  had  an  answer  from  a 
gentleman  who  lives  in  New  Orleans.  He  says  that  a  great 
many  wounded  English  officers  were  taken  to  the  hospitals  in 
the  city  after  the  retreat  of  our  troops,  and  some  were  received 
into  English  families  residing  in  New  Orleans  or  the  neigh- 
bourhood. He  had  ascertained  that  no  officer  named  Baynton 
had  been  brought  as  a  patient  to  any  hospital,  but  could  not 
learn  much  about  the  others.  He  thought,  however,  that  if 
Major  Baynton  had  been  among  those  who  were  taken  charge 
of  by  one  of  the  neighbouring  gentry,  he  must  in  all  likelihood 
have  died  long  before  this,  or  recovered  and  left  the  country. 
I  must  own  that  there  seems  but  little  ground  for  hope  ;  and 
that,  I  can  see,  is  Mr  Knyvett's  opinion  also.  But  I  don't 
mean  to  give  up,  while  there  is  any  hope  at  all. 

If  Baynton  is  dead,  of  course  all  chance  of  my  entering  the 
army  is  at  an  end,  unless  I  enlist  as  a  private  soldier,  as  I  have 
once  or  twice  been  half  disposed  to  do.  I  sometimes  think  I 
may  do  so  still,  if  Wilcoxon  continues  to  bully  me.  I  would 
certainly  rather  serve  in  the  ranks  than  be  his  clerk.  I  declare 
I  think  I  hate  him  worse  and  worse  every  day.  There  is  no 
end  to  his  meanness  and  trickery.  I  told  you  at  the  begin- 
ning of  this  letter  that  no  one  had  heard  anything  about  him 
since  he  went  off  on  his  wedding  tour.  But  I  ought  to  have 
said  that  no  one  in  East  Street  had  heard  of  him.  The 
Bowles's  have  heard  something  of  him,  and  he  of  them. 
There  is  a  fellow  now  hanging  about  Wickfield — a  fellow 
called  Carr — cur  he  ought  to  be  called — a  money-lender 


132  Who  did  it? 

living  in  Ship  Street.  He  is  one  of  Wilcoxon's  agents,  or 
rather  one  of  the  tools  with  which  he  does  his  dirty  work.  It 
seems  this  nail  factory  of  his  must  be  enlarged,  if  it  is  to  answer, 
and  it  can  only  be  enlarged  by  building  over  Bowles's  ground. 
I  have  told  you  before  of  his  ineffectual  attempts  to  get  posses- 
sion by  requiring  Bowles  to  execute  repairs,  and  then  by  rais- 
ing his  rent.  Now  he  has  tried  a  third  dodge. 

I  told  you,  I  think,  that  Tom  and  Bill  Bowles  had  brought 
home  a  heap  of  money,  which  they  meant  to  lay  out  in  setting 
up  their  father  and  themselves  in  business.  They  resolved, 
after  much  deliberation,  to  buy  a  brig,  by  means  of  which 
they  would  be  able  to  supply  the  Wickfield  people  with  coals, 
cheaper  than  they  can  get  them  now.  But  the  brig  would  cost 
more  money  than  their  savings  would  amount  to,  though  they 
had  saved  a  goodish  sum.  They  wanted  to  borrow  a  thousand 
pounds,  giving  their  property  here  as  a  security  for  it.  One 
day  about  six  weeks  ago  or  thereabouts,  just  after  Wilcoxon's 
departure,  Carr  came  down  to  see  old  Bowles.  He  said  he 
had  some  money  which  he  wished  to  put  out  at  five  per  cent, 
interest.  He  had  been  told  that  Mr  Bowles  wanted  to  borrow 
a  few  hundreds.  If  so,  he  would  be  very  glad  to  accommo- 
date him.  What  security  did  he  propose  to  give  ?  Bowles 
was  taken  in  by  the  fellow's  manner.  Five  per  cent,  would  be 
very  easy  terms  for  the  loan,  and  the  security  he  proposed  to 
give,  his  furniture  and  stock-in-trade,  among  which  of  course 
the  brig  would  be  included,  was  pronounced  by  Carr  to  be 
perfectly  satisfactory.  The  old  boatman  was  very  near  con- 
senting, but  it  had  occurred  to  him  that  he  ought  to  consult 
his  sons  first,  as  a  large  part  of  the  money  invested  would  be 
theirs,  Carr  tried  hard  to  induce  him  to  change  his  resolu- 


George's  Letter.  133 

tion,  and  at  length  took  his  departure,  promising  to  return  for 
the  final  answer  on  the  following  day. 

When  Tom  and  William  Bowles  came  home  in  the  evening 
they  were  not  quite  so  well  pleased  with  the  offer  as  their 
father  had  been. 

"  If  all  is  above-board,"  observed  Tom,  "  we  couldn't  do 
better  than  accept  the  terms.  But  I  don't  altogether  fancy 
what  I  have  heard  about  this  man  Carr." 

"  What  have  you  heard  about  him  ?  "  asked  Bill. 

"  Well,  I've  heard  that  he  has  lent  money  to  several  people 
who  were  hard  up,  and  made  them  pay  ten  and  twelve  per 
cent,  for  it.  I  don't  understand  why  he  should  lower  his 
terms  so  much  to  us.  He  has  a  bad  name  in  Wickfield,  and 
I  don't  fancy  putting  myself  into  his  power." 

"  There's  something  in  that,  Tom,"  said  his  father,  "  and  I 
must  say  I  don't  fancy  the  man  myself,  nor  his  wanting  me  to 
settle  the  matter  without  speaking  to  you.  Still  if  the  offer  is 
made  in  good  faith,  it  is  better  than  we  are  likely  to  get  else- 
where." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  we  can  do,  father,"  says  Bill ;  "  we  can 
go  up  and  ask  lawyer  Kny  vett  about  it.  He's  always  been  our 
good  friend,  and  has  promised  to  borrow  this  money  for  us,  if 
he  can.  He  knows  pretty  nearly  everything  about  people 
round  about  here.  He'll  advise  us  what  to  do." 

"  This  was  voted  a  bright  idea ;  and  the  next  day  accord- 
ingly the  old  man  paid  Mr  Knyvett  a  visit.  The  latter 
listened  to  his  story  in  silence,  and  when  he  had  ended  said 
briefly,  "Take  Carr's  money,  and  bring  the  copy  of  the 
agreement  which  you  sign  up  to  me." 

Bowles  thanked  Mr  Knyvett  and  went  home.     The  next 


134  Who  did  it? 

day  Carr  came,  and  Bowles  faithfully  obeyed  the  lawyer's 
instructions.  He  agreed  to  borrow  the  money  on  the  terms 
offered,  and  to  give  all  his  property,  of  whatsoever  kind  (in 
which,  of  course,  the  new  brig  was  included),  as  security. 
Carr  produced  an  agreement  ready  drawn  up  in  duplicate, 
which  Bowles  signed,  retaining,  of  course,  one  of  the  dupli- 
cates. The  money  lender  then  handed  over  ten  bank  notes 
of  one  hundred  pounds  each,  and  took  his  departure. 

Bowles  only  waited  till  he  was  quite  clear  of  the  premises, 
and  then  went  up  to  Mr  Knyvett's  office  with  the  bank  notes 
and  the  agreement. 

"  It's  all  right,"  said  the  solicitor,  as  he  ran  his  eye  over  the 
paper.  "  You  can  proceed  now  as  quickly  as  you  please. 
You  have  seen  a  brig  which  you  think  would  suit  you,  have 
you  not,  Bowles  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  she's  a  regular  beauty,  and  a  capital 
bargain  too,"  replied  the  old  man.  "  With  this  money  and 
the  boys'  savings  we  shall  be  able  to  pay  for  her  right 
down." 

"  That's  all  right  then,"  said  Mr  Knyvett  "  You  mean  to 
leave  these  bank  notes  with  me,  I  suppose,  as  well  as  the 
agreement  ?  Very  well,  I  will  take  charge  of  them.  I  have 
your  sons'  money  already,  you  know.  It  is  deposited  with  my 
bankers  at  interest.  When  do  you  mean  to  pay  for  the  brig  ? 
What  is  its  name,  by  the  way  ?  " 

"  They  call  her  the  Caroline,  sir.  We  haven't  any  thought 
of  changing  the  name." 

"  Very  well ;  when  you  want  to  pay  for  the  Caroline,  send 
the  owner  up  to  me." 

Well,  Clem,  the  old  chap  went  home  as  jolly  as  a  sand- 


George's  Letter.  135 

boy.  They  bought  the  brig,  brought  her  round  to  Wickfield, 
and  were  making  their  arrangements  to  sail  for  Newcastle  with 
a  cargo  on  board,  which  they  meant  to  sell  in  Newcastle  and 
return  with  coals,  when  they  received  another  visit  from  Carr. 
He  appeared  to  be  in  great  alarm  and  distress. 

"  You  haven't  paid  away  the  money  I  lent  you  yet,  have 
you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Not  paid  it  away  ?  "  repeated  Bowles.  "  Why,  of  course  I 
have.  The  Caroline  was  paid  for  when  she  was  handed 
over  to  us.  It  was  agreed  that  she  should  be." 

"  O  dear,  dear,  was  there  ever  anything  so  unfortunate,"  says 
Carr.  "  I've  had  some  terrible  losses  in  business,  and  I  must 
have  this  money  back,  or  I  shall  be  ruined." 

"  Have  the  money  back,"  says  Bowles.  "  Of  course,  you'll 
have  it  back  in  time.  We  mean  to  pay  you  off  bit  by  bit,  as 
we  makes  our  money,  but,  to  be  sure,  you  don't  expect  us  to 
pay  you  back  now,  when  we've  only  just  had  it.  Why,  we 
haven't  had  time  to  make  a  sixpence  yet." 

"  I  can't  help  it,  Mr  Bowles,"  says  the  rascal.  "  Perhaps 
you  can  borrow  it  of  some  one  else.  I  should  be  sorry  to 
inconvenience  you  any  way,  but  I  should  be  obliged,  if  you 
can't  raise  it  in  any  way,  to  sell  your  furniture  here,  I  am  afraid, 
and  the  Caroline,  too.  O  dear,  was  there  ever  anything  so 
unlucky  ?  " 

"  Sell  our  furniture  and  the  Caroline?  cried  Bowles.  "  I 
don't  see  how  you  can  do  that.  Why,  we  have  only  just  had 
the  money,  and,  of  course,  you  must  have  known  that  we 
couldn't  repay  you — the  whole  of  it,  that  is — for  a  long  time  to 
come." 

" There  wasn't  any  time  named  in  the  bond,  was  there? " 
asked  Carr. 


136  Who  did  it? 

"  I  don't  know  as  there  was,"  returned  the  other,  "  but  it 
must  have  been  understood  so." 

"  I  didn't  understand  it  in  that  way,"  says  Carr,  "  and  I'm 
afraid  my  creditors  wouldn't  agree  to  my  allowing  you  time. 
But  see  here,  Mr  Bowles,  you've  a  long  lease  of  these  premises, 
haven't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bowles,  drily,  "  a  thirty  years'  lease,  and  about 
six  of  'em  have  run  out" 

"  Well,  I  daresay  you  could  get  something  handsome  for 
that.  In  fact,  I  shouldn't  mind  if  you'd  make  that  over  to 
me—" 

"  Ah,  now  I  see  what  you're  at,  Master  Carr,"  cries  the  old 
man.  "  You'll  just  be  pleased  to  get  out  of  this  house  without 
more  words,  and  you'll  be  wise  to  do  it  pretty  quick,  for  if  my 
lads  were  to  come  home  and  hear  what  you'd  come  for,  they 
might  give  you  something  you  wouldn't  like." 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  them,  or  you  either,"  says  the  fellow, 
changing  his  tone ;  "  and  I  give  you  notice  that  if  you  don't 
pay  me  within  two  days,  I'll  sell  you  up  without  more  ado." 

Bowles  went  up  to  Mr  Knyvett  with  a  very  woe-begone  face, 
and  told  his  story.  Knyvett  listened  to  it,  but  didn't  seem  to 
pity  Bowles  as  much  as  he  had  expected. 

"  It's  a  sad  business,"  he  said,  "but  I'll  do  the  best  I  can 
for  you.  We  must  see  if  I  can't  persuade  him  to  give  you  a 
little  time.  Appoint  him  to  meet  me  here  to-morrow  about 
the  same  time,  and  we'll  see  what  can  be  done." 

Carr  didn't  very  much  like  going  to  Mr  Knyvett's  office,  but 
he  couldn't  very  well  help  himself. 

"  Good  morning,"  says  Mr  Knyvett ;  "  good  morning,  Mr 
Carr.  This  isn't  the  first  time  we've  met,  I  think,  is  it  ?  " 


George's  Letter.  137 

"  I  don't  remember  having  had  the  honour  of  being  in  your 
company  before,"  replies  the  money-lender. 

"  Not  at  Portsmouth  some  four  years  ago,  Mr  Carr  ?  There 
was  a  sailor,  Andrew  Clark,  I  think  his  name  was,  who  had  been 
robbed  of  his  money  in  one  of  the  dens  there.  Ah,  you  don't 
remember ;  never  mind  that.  Well,  you  want  the  thousand 
pounds  here  that  you  lent  Mr  Bowles  back  again,  I'm  told, 
and  at  very  short  notice,  for  he  hasn't  had  the  money  a  month 
yet.  I  think  you're  rather  hard  upon  him,  Mr  Carr." 

"  I  assure  you,  sir,  it  distresses  me  very  much  to  put  Mr 
Bowles  to  any  inconvenience.  But  my  position  is  one  of 
great  urgency.  I  should  be  sold  up  myself—" 

"That  would  be  a  pity,"  said  Mr  Knyvett,  drily.  "You 
deposited  with  me  the  copy  of  the  bond,  did  you  not,  Bowles  ?  " 
he  resumed,  turning  to  the  boatman ;  and  then  opening  his 
desk,  "yes,  here  it  is,  and  here  are  the  numbers  of  the  notes 
that  you  gave  Mr  Bowles.  Look  at  it,  and  see  if  it  is  correct." 

"  Quite  correct,  sir,"  said  Carr ;  "  there  is  no  doubt  of  the 
accuracy  of  the  transaction." 

"  You  had  better  verify  them  yourself,  then,"  said  Mr  Kny- 
vett, tossing  over  a  bundle  of  bank  notes  to  him.  "  You  will 
see  that  they  are  precisely  the  same  that  you  gave  him.  There, 
you  scoundrel,  take  yourself  out  of  my  office,  and  be  thankful 
that  this  attempt  to  ruin  an  honest  man  has  failed.  I  would 
advise  you  also  to  take  yourself  out  of  Wickfield,  or  Andrew 
Clark  may  be  making  inquiries  after  the  crimp  who  pillaged 
him.  Bowles,"  he  goes  on,  "  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of 
lending  you  this  money  myself  at  the  same  rate  of  interest 
which  this  rascal  offered  you.  I  shall  give  you  rather  longer 
time  than  he  proposed  to  do." 


1 38  Who  did  it  ? 

Wasn't  that  glorious,  Clem?  Frank  Knyvett,  who  was  present, 
told  me  Carr  left  the  room  white  with  rage,  threatening  that  he 
would  pay  the  Bowles's  out  for  it  yet.  But  they've  no  need  to 
fear  him.  I  had  heard  of  the  poor  old  fellow's  trouble,  and 
had  gone  down  to  comfort  him  as  well  as  I  could.  I  found 
Tom  and  Bill  and  the  old  woman  waiting  for  Bowles's  return, 
all  very  much  down  in  the  mouth.  But  by  and  bye  the  old 
man  comes  in,  radiant  with  joy,  and  tells  the  story.  You 
should  have  seen  how  delighted  they  were  !  I  hear  Carr  has 
already  left  Wickfield,  but  I  judge  he  has  written  to  tell  Wil- 
coxon  what  has  happened,  and  he'll  be  none  the  less  savage 
with  me,  as  he  always  fancies  that  I  back  up  the  Bowles's ; 
and,  indeed,  he's  not  far  wrong  in  that.  Meanwhile  the  Caro- 
line is  all  but  ready  to  sail.  Tom  and  Bill  have  gone  to 
Portsmouth  to  try  and  pick  up  a  few  hands  to  complete  the 
crew,  and  then  they'll  be  off.  They  are  such  good  fellows 
that  I  should  like  to  go  as  second  mate  on  board  the  brig  with 
them. 

This  is  a  long  letter,  Clem ;  but  I  know  you  are  interested 
in  these  matters,  and  wont  be  tired.  Remember  me  to  Fred 
and  Scott  and  the  others,  and  believe  me,  your  affect,  friend, 

GEORGE  ALFORD. 

P.S. — You  may  tell  the  above  to  Fred  Cressingham,  if  you 
like.  But  if  I  should  resolve  on  leaving  Wickfield,  though  I 
shall  certainly  tell  you  everything,  I  must  ask  you  to  keep  that 
entirely  to  yourself.  Wilcoxon,  though  he  talks  a  good  deal 
about  allowing  me  to  go  my  own  way,  &c.,  has  no  idea  of 
really  permitting  anything  of  the  kind.  He'd  be  sure  to  send 
after  me  if  he  knew  where  I  was  gone,  and  hunt  me  down.  It 
must  be  a  secret  between  you  and  me. 


George  s  Letter.  1 39 

Burton  read  the  whole  of  the  letter,  except  the  postscript, 
aloud.  Then  he  folded  it  up,  and  there  was  a  silence  of  some 
minutes.  Presently  Cressingham  spoke. 

"  It's  a  burning  shame,"  he  said ;  "  but  I  am  afraid 
George  hasn't  much  chance  with  a  fellow  like  Wilcoxon,  who 
seems  to  be  something  between  a  Yankee  attorney  and  a  Jew 
money  lender.  Well,  I  suppose,  you'll  hear  from  him  again, 
Clem,  pretty  soon  now,  and  then  everything  will  have  been 
settled." 

"  Yes,  I  expect  to  hear  in  a  day  or  two  at  furthest,"  replied 
Burton.  "  George  has  still  two  or  three  days  of  his  two 
months  left,  but  he  may  not  wait  the  whole  time  before  having 
it  out  with  his  step-father.  Well,  let  us  go  in  now,  Fred ;  it's 
just  upon  the  •  time,  and  I  see  the  other  fellows  coming  up 
from  the  shore." 

Nothing  was  talked  of  that  evening  in  the  schoolroom, 
except  the  trial  of  skill  with  pistols  on  the  beach,  and  the 
match  which  was  to  come  off  at  the  end  of  the  ensuing  week. 
Graves's  party  were  the  most  eager  of  any,  notwithstanding 
that  Graves  himself  took  no  part  in  the  discussion. 

"  I  have  got  a  letter  to  show  you,  Jerry,"  he  said,  drawing 
Taunton  on  one  side.  "  It  has  just  come.  Clara  has  seen 
Mr  Lumley  about  the  money." 

"  Was  the  old  chap  in  a  good  humour  ?  "  inquired  Taunton. 
"  No,  he  wasn't,"  answered  Graves.  "  Clara  says  she  never 
saw  him  so  surly.  He  went  on  about  my  extravagance,  as  he 
called  it,  by  the  yard  ;  and  there  was  no  pulling  him  up.  He'll 
come  round  by-and-bye,  but  not  this  side  of  Christmas,  I 
expect." 

"  What  a  bore,"  said  Taunton.     "  I  must  write  and  tell 


140  Wlw  did  it  ? 

Reginald.  I  had  given  him  to  understand  that  you  would 
certainly  take  the  gun  and  pistols.  I  am  afraid  he'll  be  a  good 
deal  disappointed.  And  how  about  this  pistol  match  too  ? 
I  take  it  for  granted  y&u  meant  to  use  my  cousin's  pistols  to 
win  that,  as  you'd  be  safe  to  do,  if  you  shot  with  them —  " 

"  I  think  I  could  answer  for  that,"  observed  Graves.  "  I've 
hit  a  half-crown  three  times  running  with  them  at  a  dozen 
yards.  It  would  be  odd  if  I  couldn't  hit  a  ginger-beer  bottle." 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  said  Taunton.  "  But  if  you  can't  get 
these  pistols,  and  are  driven  to  use  old  Grimes's  again,  and 
Temple  borrows  some  first-rate  articles — as  very  likely  he  will 
— what's  to  happen  then?  Really,  I  think  you  had  better  say 
you  can't  get  any  decent  pistols,  and  give  the  thing  up.  None 
of  our  set  would  like  to  see  you  beaten —  " 

"  I  don't  mean  to  be  beaten,"  said  Graves,  "and  I  do  mean 
to  shoot  the  match.  I've  agreed  to  shoot  it,  and  that  is  enough. 
Look  here,  Jerry,  though  Lumley  wouldn't  give  Clara  the 
money  she  asked  for,  he  did  give  her  five  guineas,  which  she 
has  sent  me.  That,  with  the  money  I  have  in  my  purse,  will 
be  enough  to  buy  the  pistols." 

"  To  be  sure  it  will,"  cried  Taunton,  joyfully.  "  Hand  over 
the  dibs,  and  I'll  write  this  very  night  to  Reginald,  and  tell 
him  to  send  the  pistols  off  by  the  coach.  There  will  be  heaps 
of  time  to  get  them  between  this  and  Saturday  week." 

"Well,  not  too  much  time,"  rejoined  Graves.  " It  is  a  two 
days'  post  to  your  cousin's  place,  and  the  coach  will  be  gone 
when  he  receives  it,  on  Saturday.  The  coach  is  two  days  in 
getting  to  London,  and  the  journey  here  takes  a  day  more. 
They  can't  be  here  before  Wednesday  afternoon." 

"  Never  mind,  Wednesday  afternoon  will  be  soon  enough," 


George's  Letter.  141 

rejoined  Taunton.  "  Well,  I  shall  enjoy  seeing  Temple  taken 
down,  I  must  say  that,  and  so  will  Dilke,  and  Payne,  and  Dick 
Rawes.  I'll  sit  down  and  write  immediately." 

Nor  were  Temple's  backers  less  anxious  for  their  champion's 
success.  Charlie  found  Wright  and  Winburne  in  possession 
of  his  study,  when  he  returned  after  the  pistol  shooting.  They 
were  eager  to  tell  him  all  about  Graves's  usage  of  them — of 
which  Temple  as  yet  had  heard  nothing — and  to  learn  the 
rights  about  the  shooting  match,  of  which  only  imperfect  rumours 
had  reached  them.  The  two  narratives,  with  the  running 
comments  made  on  them,  took  up  a  good  deal  of  time,  and  it 
wanted  only  a  few  minutes  to  prayers,  when  they  were  com 
pleted. 

"  You  beat  him  then,  Charlie,"  exclaimed  Wright,  when  he 
had  heard  all.  "  I  am  glad  of  that,  anyway.  I  should  like 
to  have  seen  his  face  when  he  missed,  and  you  hit !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Winburne,  "  I  had  made  a  vow  that  I  would 
have  nothing  to  do  with  him  for  the  future,  the  sulky,  cowardly 
brute—  " 

"  Draw  it  mild,  Jack,"  said  Temple.  "  He  is  sulky  and  he 
may  be  a  brute,  but  he's  not  a  coward.  You  didn't  see  him 
with  Nep  to-day,  or  you  wouldn't  call  him  one." 

"  He's  a  bully,"  said  Winburne,  "  and  a  bully  is  almost 
always  a  coward." 

"  Well,  I  hardly  should  call  Graves  a  bully,"  said  Temple. 
"  He  doesn't  care  how  much  he  hurts  a  fellow,  no  doubt,  but 
I  don't  think  he  hurts  him  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  hurting 
him.  If  you  leave  him  alone,  I  believe  he'd  leave  you." 

"  Well,  anyway,  as  I  was  saying,"  resumed  Winburne,  "  I 
have  made  a  vow  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  him  for  the  future, 


142  Who  did  it  f 

but  I  should  have  broken  it  upon  the  first  day,  to  have  seen 
him  beaten  at  pistol  shooting — the  thing  which  he  thinks  he 
can  do  better  than  anyone  else." 

"Well,  you'll  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing  him  beaten 
again,"  remarked  Wright.  "  I'll  go  bail  for  it,  Charlie  will  give 
him  just  as  sound  a  licking  next  Saturday  week,  as  he  did 
to-day." 

"  No,  you  mustn't  expect  that,"  said  Temple.  "  In  the  first 
place,  on  consideration  I  don't  think  that  I  shall  shoot  the 
match  at  all.  I  did  say  I  would  shoot  it,  no  doubt.  I  was  a 
good  deal  provoked.  But  I  half  think  that  it  is  a  promise 
which  I  ought  not  to  keep.  I  gave  my  mother  my  promise 
last  holidays  that  I  wouldn't  break  any  of  the  rules  of  the 
school.  I  have  kept  the  promise  up  till  now.  Perhaps 
Hepburn  might  think  that  the  wearing  the  gipsy's  clothes  was 
a  breach  of  the  rules,  but  I  didn't  and  don't.  There  was  no 
positive  rule  that  was  broken  by  it.  But  there  is  a  well  known 
rule,  and  one  on  which  the  Doctor  insists,  that  no  fellow  here 
shall  use  firearms.  Burton  and  Cressingham  were  right  when 
they  said  so  to-day,  and  I  wish  I  had  followed  their  advice. 

"There  is  something  in  that,  Charlie,"  said  Wright,  "and 
if  you  had  refused  at  the  time,  it  would  have  been  all  right. 
But  here  you  see  you  have  made  a  positive  engagement.  I 
daresay  some  of  the  fellows  have  made  wagers  about  it ;  and 
certainly  Graves  and  his  friends  will  crow  over  you,  and  all 
our  set.  I  think  you  had  better  say  that  when  this  match  has 
come  off,  you  wont  shoot  another.  But  this  match  you  must 
shoot." 

"  I  suppose  I  must,"  assented  Temple,  reluctantly.  "  But 
I'm  sorry  for  it." 


George's  Letter.  143 

"  You  will  not  be  very  sorry  for  it,  when  Graves  has  had  a 
sound  drubbing,"  remarked  Winburne. 

"Graves  won't  get  a  sound  drubbing,"  rejoined  Temple. 
"  It  was  mere  accident  my  hitting  to-day  as  I  did,  and  Graves 
would  not  have  missed  if  the  bullets  had  fitted  the  pistols.  I 
have  had  more  practice  no  doubt  than  Rawes  fancies,  but  I'm 
no  match  for  Graves,  who  really  is  a  crack  shot.  Besides 
there's  another  thing.  I  chanced  to  overhear  Rawes  talking 
to  Dilke  and  Payne  an  hour  or  two  ago.  He  was  telling  them 
that  Graves  is  going  to  send  for  a  pair  of  splendid  pistols  from 
home  or  somewhere,  with  which  he  can  knock  the  ace  of  clubs 
out  of  a  card.  No,  I  shall  be  safe  to  be  beaten,  but  it  isn't 
that  that  I  mind  so  much." 

"  As  for  getting  a  good  brace  of  pistols,"  observed  Winburne, 
"  two  can  play  at  that.  Why  shouldn't  you  get  a  first  chop 
article,  Charlie?" 

"Where  am  I  to  get  it  from?"  asked  Temple. 

"Where  from?"  repeated  Winburne.  "Anywhere  I  should 
think.  Good  pistols  are  not  such  very  rare  things." 

"  They  are  in  this  neighbourhood,  I  am  afraid,"  remarked 
Wright.  "  Colonel  Wilder  has  some  good  pistols.  Dolman 
told  me  so.  He  said  the  Colonel  often  sent  his  guns  and 
pistols  to  his  shop  to  be  repaired  or  cleaned,  and  some  of  them 
were  as  first-rate  articles  as  he  had  ever  seen.  But  then,  of 
course,  the  Colonel  wouldn't  lend  them  even  if  he  was  asked. 
He  knows  old  Thornton's  rules,  and  wouldn't  connive  at  their 
being  broken." 

"  Well,"  said  Winburne,  "  Charlie  might  get  a  pistol  for  the 
day  from  Dolman  himself.  I  know  he  has  some  splendid 
articles  in  his  shop — second-hand  pistols,  some  of  them,  which 


144  Who  did  it  ? 

he  wouldn't  mind  lending  if  we  paid  him,  say,  five  shillings  for 
the  hire.  I  am  sure  your  friends,  Charlie,  would  willingly 
subscribe  that." 

"  Dolman  will  be  almost  as  unlikely  to  lend  his  pistols  as 
the  Colonel,"  observed  Wright.  "  Dolman  is  a  cutler  as  well 
as  a  gunsmith,  you  know,  and  the  Doctor  has  a  lot  of  things 
at  his  shop  in  the  course  of  the  year.  If  Dolman  should  be 
detected  in  lending  firearms  to  the  fellows,  he  would  lose 
Thornton's  custom  most  likely,  and  he'd  hardly  run  the  risk  of 
doing  that  for  five  shillings." 

"  Well,  anyway,  we  might  get  Harry  Wilder  to  borrow  the 
pistols,"  rejoined  Winburne.  "  He'd  do  it  at  once  if  we  asked 
him,  and  Dolman  could  have  no  reason  for  refusing  him. 
What  do  you  think  of  that,  Charlie?" 

"  I  daresay  I  could  get  a  pistol,  if  that  were  all,"  said 
Temple,  "  from  somewhere  or  other.  You  may  leave  that  to 
me.  Well,  I'll  shoot  the  match.  But  it's  only  for  this  once, 
remember !  I'll  never  do  it  again." 

Only  this  once  !  How  many  boys  and  men  too  owe  their 
ruin  to  that  ill-omened  phrase.  Of  all  the  baits  with  which 
the  devil  dresses  his  hook,  there  is  none  more  deadly  than 
that  same  phrase,  "only  this  once." 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  SMUGGLER'S  DEN. 

RAWES'S  complaint — that  it  always  rained  on  half-holidays — 
seemed  to  have  some  truth  in  it.  The  Friday  in  the  ensuing 
week  began,  and  seemed  likely  to  end,  with  steady,  soaking 
rain.  It  was  not  until  three  in  the  afternoon  that  it  con- 
descended to  cease,  and  then  the  boys  agreed  that  the  only 
sport  possible  for  them  under  the  circumstances  would  be 
what  they  were  wont  to  call,  "  Hare's  hide-and-seek."  The 
tides  happened  to  be  at  their  lowest,  so  that  it  was  possible  for 
the  boys  to  make  their  way  along  the  shore  as  far  as  Crawley 
Point,  and  return  round  Cockle  Head,  before  the  tide  came 
in.  The  game  was  a  sort  of  combination  of  a  paper-chase  and 
hide-and-seek.  They  carried  the  scent,  as  in  the  first-named 
pastime.  But  instead  of  continuing  their  course  until  they 
reached  home  again,  they  were  wont  to  hide  themselves  in 
some  one  of  the  numerous  caves,  into  which  the  Hanger  Cliffs 
were  broken.  These  in  many  instances  contained  narrow 
passages  winding  far  back  into  the  rock,  and  deep  hollows 
over-grown  with  long  weeds,  which  afforded  capital  hiding 
places.  If  they  failed  to  find  the  hares  in  ten  minutes  after 
entering  the  cave,  the  victory  was  considered  to  rest  with  the 
latter,  if  before  that  time,  with  their  pursuers. 

K 


146  Who  did  it? 

11  Who'll  be  hare  ?  "  said  Charlie  Temple,  as  he  handed  a 
bundle  of  old  newspapers  and  exercises  to  some  of  the  juniors, 
who  proceeded  to  tear  them  in  pieces.  "  It  ought  to  be  some 
big  fellow,  as  the  running  will  be  very  heavy  to-day.  Will  you 
be  one,  Graves  ?  " 

"Jerry  and  I  have  some  business  in  Walescliff,"  said 
Graves,  "  or  I  would." 

"Why  shouldn't  you  be  one  of  the  hares  yourself, 
Charlie  ?  "  asked  Wright. 

"  I  hurt  my  foot  at  cricket  yesterday,"  said  Temple.  "  I 
shall  be  able,  I  daresay,  to  keep  up  with  the  ruck,  but  I 
couldn't  go  ahead." 

"  I'll  be  one  of  the  hares,"  said  Cressingham,  "  if  you  like 
it.  Will  you  be  the  other,  Clement  ?  "  He  laid  his  hand  on 
his  friend's  shoulder  as  he  spoke. 

Burton  started.  He  had  been  engaged  in  the  perusal  of  a 
letter  which  had  arrived  by  the  morning's  post,  and  was 
apparently  so  much  interested,  that  he  was  unaware  of  what 
was  passing.  "  I've  no  objection,"  he  said.  "  We  shall  go 
under  Hanger's  Cliffs,  I  suppose.  Let  us  start  at  once." 

The  bags  containing  the  scraps  of  paper  known  as  "the 
scent "  were  handed  to  the  two  boys,  and  they  set  off  at  the 
long  swinging  trot,  which  is  the  orthodox  pace  in  this  par- 
ticular sport,  while  the  others  remained  behind  the  prescribed 
time,  before  setting  off  in  pursuit.  The  sea-shore  was  soon 
reached.  Cockle  Head  was  gained,  and  then  Burton  and 
Cressingham  subsided  into  a  steady  pace  along  the  hard,  moist 
sand  which  stretched  without  interruption  for  miles  under 
Hanger's  Cliffs. 

They  had  proceeded  for  more  than  three  miles,  and  had 


A  Smuggler's  Den.  147 

reached  the  mouth  of  what  seemed  to  be  little  more  than  a 
narrow  slit  in  the  rock,  when  Cressingham  called  upon  his 
companion  to  stop. 

"  Here'll  be  the  place,  Clem  ;  let  us  locate  ourselves  here, 
as  the  Yankees  say.  That  projecting  rock  entirely  screens  us 
from  the  hounds.  They  won't  be  able  to  tell  what  has 
become  of  us." 

"What,  hide  in  Hanger's  Cave  itself,"  said  Burton,  in  some 
surprise.  "  All  the  hiding  places  there  are  as  well  known  as 
the  seats  in  the  play-ground.  We  shall  be  caught  in  a 
minute  if  we  hide  there." 

"Ah,  so  you  think,"  said  Cressingham,  "but  if  you'll  go 
inside,  you'll  see  reason  to  change  your  opinion." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Burton,  dropping  a  handful  of  scent  as  he 
spoke.  Let's  go  in  and  see  this  place  of  yours." 

They  entered  accordingly,  and  presently  found  themselves 
in  a  spacious,  semicircular  hollow,  the  ground  rising  in  a  suc- 
cession of  shelves,  resembling  a  rude  amphitheatre.  In  some 
places  the  action  of  the  waves  had  formed  deep  holes.  In 
others  there  were  natural  fissures,  running  a  long  way  back  into 
the  rock.  In  some  of  these  passages  had  been  cut,  so  as  to 
make  one  cavity  communicate  with  another.  Report  said 
that  these  hollows  were  sometimes  used  as  receptacles  for 
smuggled  goods.  But  as  the  passage  to  the  cliffs  above  could 
only  be  made  by  swarming  up  a  rope  thrown  down  from  the 
summit,  and  heavy  goods  could  not  have  been  raised  without 
the  help  of  a  crane,  this  story  was  generally  disbelieved. 

"You  have  heard  old  Gunn's  stories  about  this  place,  I 
suppose,"  said  Burton.  "  He  persists  in  it  that  twenty  years 
ago,  before  the  coast-guard  was  established  out  at  Crawley 


148  Wkodiditt 

Point  yonder,  no  end  of  smuggling  went  on  here.  But  I 
never  believed  him." 

"  Nor  did  I,"  said  Cressingham,  "  until  last  summer.  What 
I  am  going  to  show  you,  altered  my  opinion,  and  I  guess  it 
will  alter  yours  too." 

As  he  spoke  he  climbed  up  to  the  highest  of  the  shelves, 
which  formed  the  back  of  the  cave,  and  entered  a  huge  cleft 
about  six  feet  high.  It  ran  for  a  dozen  feet  or  so  straight 
into  the  rock,  and  then  turning  sharply  to  the  left,  was  con- 
tinued for  about  the  same  distance,  when  it  ended  abruptly. 

"  Do  you  know  this  passage,  Clem  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Know  it?"  returned  Burton.  "Of  course  I  know  it. 
What  fellow  in  Holmwood  doesn't  know  it,  I  should  like  to 
know.  There  used  to  be  a  sort  of  niche  to  the  left  into 
which  a  fellow  could  just  thrust  himself.  Ay,  here  it  is,"  he 
resumed  a  minute  afterwards.  "  This  would  do  very  well, 
Fred,  for  one  of  us  to  hide  in  if  the  fellows  had  never  played 
hide-and-seek  here  before.  But  as  soon  as  they  find  we  have 
gone  in  here,  I'll  answer  for  it  they'll  go  straight  to  this  place 
the  first  thing." 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  said  Cressingham.  "  You  say  you  know  the 
passage,  but  do  you  happen  to  know  this  ?  "  He  thrust  his 
hand  as  he  spoke  into  what  seemed  a  small  fissure,  and  un- 
did apparently  some  fastening,  for  a  solid  slab  of  stone,  which 
must  have  been  fully  six  feet  high  and  more  than  two  wide, 
swung  noiselessly  on  one  side,  and  showed  a  long  narrow  pas- 
sage beyond. 

"  By  Jove,"  exclaimed  Burton,  invoking,  after  the  fashion  of 
schoolboys,  the  heathen  sire  of  gods  and  men,  "  how  did  you 
come  to  find  that  out  ?  " 


A  Smugglers  Den.  149 

"  By  the  merest  accident.  It  was  just  the  last  day  of  last 
half,  or  rather,  I  should  say,  it  was  the  first  day  of  the  holi- 
days. Somehow  or  other  I  contrived  to  miss  the  coach,  and 
there  was  no  getting  away  from  Walescliff  until  the  next  day.  I 
did  not  know  what  on  earth  to  do  with  myself,  and  at  last 
resolved  to  take  one  of  old  Gunn's  boats  and  row  along  under 
Hanger  Cliffs  carrying  my  luncheon  with  me.  The  day  was 
dreadfully  hot,  and  this  cave  was  the  coolest  place  I  could 
find.  I  took  my  lunch  up  into  this  hollow.  After  finishing  it 
I  laid  down  and  had  a  nap.  By-and-by  I  woke  up  and  was 
going  away,  but  I  couldn't  find  my  knife.  I  fancied  that  I  had 
stuck  it  into  a  crevice  of  the  rock.  I  put  my  hand  into  one 
of  these  and  began  feeling  about.  Presently  I  laid  hold  of 
something  cold.  It  was  not  the  handle  of  my  knife,  but  a 
knob  of  iron,  which  proved  to  be  the  end  of  a  bolt,  running,  I 
suppose,  into  the  stone  slab,  for  the  moment  I  pulled  it 
towards  me,  the  slab  swung  open  as  you  saw  it  do  just 
now." 

"  Well,  that  was  a  rum  go,"  said  Burton.  "  Did  you  go  up 
to  see  where  the  path  leads  to  ?  " 

"  I  went  up  someway,"  answered Cressingham,  "far enough 
to  make  sure  that  it  ran  directly  to  the  top  of  the  cliff.  But 
it  was  getting  very  late,  and  I  thought  they  would  make  a  row 
at  Holmwood  if  I  wasn't  at  home  by  supper-time.  I  should 
fancy  there  must  be  a  fine  view  out  to  sea  from  the  top." 

"  I  make  no  doubt  there  is,"  assented  Burton.  "  Look 
here,  Fred ;  it's  plain  enough  what  this  means.  The  smug- 
glers had  been  in  the  habit  of  landing  their  cargoes  here,  and 
stowing  them  in  this  secret  passage.  Then  they  would  take 
themselves  off  the  same  way  they  came.  By-and-by  their 


1 50  Who  did  it  ? 

mates  would  come  down  under  cover  of  night  and  carry  the 
goods  off.  Most  probably  the  other  end  of  the  passage  is 
stopped  in  very  much  the  same  way  as  this  is,  so  that  no  one 
could  know  anything  of  its  existence  unless  he  went  up  in  a 
balloon.  I  remember  now  to  have  heard  George  Alford  say- 
ing that  there  was  some  secret  path  by  which  people  could 
get  to  Spurling  and  the  country  round  about,  without  passing 
either  by  the  landing  place  at  Crawley  Point,  where  the  Pre- 
ventive Station  is,  or  Walescliff  itself,  and  so  pass  close  to 
Baines's  house.  This  must  be  the  place." 

"  I  daresay  you  are  right,"  rejoined  Cressingham.  "  Sup- 
pose we  go  up  now  and  search  for  the  further  entrance.  We 
have  plenty  of  time." 

"  All  right,"  said  Burton.  "  We  had  better  shut  the  slab 
after  us,  it  is  easily  enough  opened  from  this  side."  "  Hallo," 
he  added,  a  moment  afterwards,  "what's  that  row  down  below  ? 
If  any  of  the  smugglers  are  coming  we  had  better  make  a  bolt 
for  it." 

"  No,  it's  not  the  smugglers,  Clem,"  said  Cressingham, 
laughing.  "  You  have  forgotten  the  time  of  day,  I  think. 
It's  Charlie  Temple  and  Wright  and  Winburne,  and  the  rest 
of  them.  They've  traced  us  as  far  as  the  cave,  and  are  just 
beginning  to  search  it.  They'll  be  properly  sold  ! " 

The  two  boys  stopped  for  a  few  minutes  to  listen  with 
amusement  to  the  cries  of  perplexity  and  wonder,  which  were 
plainly  enough  audible.  Then  they  began  climbing  the  rocky 
path.  This  they  found  wound  after  a  very  irregular  fashion, 
sometimes  between  high  upright  crags,  completely  screening  it 
on  either  side,  and  sometimes  through  passages  which  had  been 
cut  through  the  rock.  At  last  they  came  to  a  place  where  the 


A  Stmiggler's  Den.  1 5  r 

road  divided  into  a  fork — one  passage  leading  downwards, 
and  closed  very  nearly  after  the  same  fashion  as  at  the  other 
end,  the  other  as  plainly  proceeding  upwards  to  the  summit  of 
the  cliffs.  Cressingham  wanted  to  stop  and  discover  the 
mode  of  opening  the  secret  door,  but  Burton  advised  mount- 
ing to  the  summit  first.  They  were  hot  and  tired  with  the 
ascent,  he  said,  and  it  would  be  pleasant  to  sit  down  and  rest 
up  above,  enjoying  the  seaward  prospect  When  they  had 
had  enough  of  that,  they  could  find  the  way  out,  and  return 
that  way  to  Holmwood. 

Cressingham  assented,  and  after  climbing  the  narrow  ascent, 
which  was  here  almost  as  steep  as  a  ladder,  and  consisted  in 
many  places  of  steps  hewn  by  manual  labour,  they  emerged 
on  a  small  level  platform,  on  the  top  of  an  isolated  crag. 

"  This  is  the  place  where  the  fellows  used  to  keep  their 
look-out,"  said  Burton.  "  Look,  Fred,  anyone  standing  here 
can  see  any  boat  coming  from  either  Deadman's  Point  or 
Walescliff  on  one  side,  or  from  Curlew  Island  on  the  other, 
not  to  speak  of  any  boat  from  Crawley  Point.  They  could 
see  it  half-an-hour  at  least  before  it  could  reach  the  cave." 

"  I  wonder  those  two  fellows  that  we  picked  off  the  Quoits 
the  other  day  didn't  make  for  this  cave,"  observed  Cressing- 
ham. 

"  No,  they  wanted  to  get  to  Wickfield,  and  meant  to  have 
swum  beyond  Walescliff  Bay,"  said  Burton,  hastily ;  "or 
rather,"  he  added,  correcting  himself  in  some  confusion,  "  it 
is  most  likely  that  was  their  reason.  You  know  they  said 
something  about  wanting  to  get  there." 

"  Ay,  to  be  sure,"  said  Cressingham,  "  and  besides  the  tide 
runs  so  sharp  from  Crawley  Point  to  Cockle  Head,  that  I 


152  Who  did  it? 

don't  suppose  that  they  could  have  forced  their  way  out  of  it. 
Look  at  that  boat,  which  has  come,  I  suppose,  from  Dead- 
man's  Point.  See  what  a  wide  berth  it  is  obliged  to  give 
Cockle  Head." 

"  I  see  it,"  said  Burton.  "  It's  going  to  Horncombe  or 
Curlew  Island  most  probably.  People  often  go  that  way  by 
sea.  It  saves  a  long  land  journey." 

They  sat  down  and  watched  the  little  vessel,  as  it  slowly 
made  its  way,  continually  making  tacks.  Presently  the  atten- 
tion of  the  two  friends  was  attracted  by  voices  immediately 
below  them.  Looking  over  the  edge  of  the  crag,  they  saw 
that  the  whole  posse  of  Holmwood  boys,  having  explored 
every  crevice  of  the  cave  without  success,  were  on  the  point 
of  returning  homeward  by  the  sands. 

"Sold  out  and  out,"  exclaimed  Cressingham.  "I  say, 
Clem,  I  should  like  to  wrap  a  piece  of  paper  round  this  stone, 
write  my  name  on  it,  and  throw  it  down  among  them.  They 
can't  possibly  see  us  up  here.  How  it  would  puzzle 
them ! " 

"  Don't  do  that,  Fred,  I  don't  want  them  to  find  out  this 
secret  passage,  or  at  all  events  I  wouldn't  tell  it  to  the  whole 
school.  We  may  have  some  more  fun  with  it  on  some  future 
day." 

"  As  you  like,"  said  Cressingham.  "  There  they  go,"  he 
continued,  as  the  boys  ran  off,  the  seniors  taking  it  easy,  and 
the  younger  boys  exerting  themselves  to  keep  up  with  their 
elders.  There  they  go,  and  will  be  at  home  in  an  hour's 
time.  Talking  of  that,  Clem,  hadn't  we  better  be  off  our- 
selves. We  have  a  much  shorter  distance  to  go  than  they 
have,  but  we  may  be  some  time  in  finding  the  fastenings  of 


"  LOOK   AT   THAT   BOAT.' 


Page  152. 


A  Smuggler's  Den.  153 

the  secret  door,  and  I  should  like  to  be  at  home  before  they 
arrive.     Won't  you  come  ?  " 

"  I'll  come  presently,  but  not  this  minute,"  answered 
Burton.  "  I  want  to  sit  here  a  little  longer.  But  do  you  go 
down,  Fred,  and  find  the  entrance.  If  you'll  leave  it  open 
I'll  follow  you  in  a  short  time  ;  I  daresay  I  shall  overtake  you 
before  you  reach  Spurling  village." 

Cressingham  assented.  He  climbed  down  the  steep  stone 
staircase  and  was  soon  lost  to  sight  Burton  leant  over  the 
parapet  of  the  rock  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  boat,  which  had 
now  approached  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  shore. 

Meanwhile  the  other  boys  were  returning  along  the  shore,  a 
good  deal  puzzled,  and  some  of  them  disposed  to  be  out  of 
humour. 

"  Where  in  the  world  could  they  have  got  to  ?"  asked  Hill. 
"  I  thought  I  knew  Hanger's  Cave  pretty  well ;  but  I 
hunted  every  nook  and  corner  of  it,  and  they  certainly  could 
not  have  been  there." 

"  I  don't  believe  they  ever  went  in,"  said  Payne;  "and  it 
is  contrary  to  the  rules  of  the  game  to  try  and  sell  fellows  after 
that  fashion." 

"  They  must  have  been  in  there,  only  too  well  hidden  to  be 
discovered,"  observed  Lander.  "  Didn't  you  see  the  scent 
lying  about  at  the  entrance  of  the  cave  ?  " 

"  Yes,  we  all  saw  that,"  said  Rawes.  "  But  I  judge  Burton 
and  Cressingham  just  ran  in  for  a  moment,  and  then  ran  out 
again.  Most  likely  they  made  a  spurt  of  it  round  Trawler's 
Gate  and  so  home  by  Spurling." 

"  Trawler's  Gate,"  repeated  Hill,  "  why,  that's  ever  so  far  on 
almost  as  far  as  Crawley  Point." 


154  Who  did  it? 

"  I  know  that,"  said  Rawes.  "  But  there  would  have  been 
time  for  them  to  have  reached  it  before  we  got  round  Hanger's 
Nose  if  they  put  on  best  speed." 

"  But  you  forget,"  urged  Hill,  "  that  it  would  be  against  the 
rules  of  the  game  to  do  that.  They  would  have  been  bound 
to  drop  a  lot  of  the  scent  in  some  conspicuous  place  beyond 
the  entrance  to  the  cave  if  they  had  gone  on.  I  took  the 
trouble  to  run  some  distance  beyond  the  cave  towards  Trawler's 
Gate,  and  there  was  not  a  scrap  of  paper  anywhere." 

"  Burton  wouldn't  care,  or  Cressingham  either,  for  the  rules 
of  the  game  if  they  wanted  to  sell  us,"  rejoined  Rawes. 

"  You  have  no  right  to  say  that,"  cried  Hill  and  Lander  in 
the  same  breath.  "  I  don't  know  any  fellow  less  likely  to  do 
an  unfair  thing  like  that,  than  Clem  Burton,"  added 
Hill. 

"  Or  than  Fred  Cressingham,"  added  Lander. 

"  Oh  ay,  you  always  stand  up  for  your  favourites,"  retorted 
Rawes  impatiently. 

"  I  don't  know  whom  you  mean  by  '  my  favourites,' "  began 
Hill,  "but " 

"Don't  let  us  have  another  jaw,"  interposed  Temple. 
"  There  has  been  plenty  of  that  article  and  to  spare  during 
the  last  few  days,  and  we  are  likely,  I  am  afraid,  to  have  more 
of  it.  No  one  can  have  any  right  to  say  that  Burton  and 
Cressingham  would  do  anything  unfair.  I  don't  suppose  any- 
body really  thinks  so.  They  might  have  done  what  Rawes 
supposes  by  way  of  a  joke,  but  in  no  other  way." 

"  That's  your  opinion,  is  it  ?  "  asked  Rawes. 

"  That's  my  opinion,"  repeated  Temple. 

Nothing  more  was  said.     The  party  trudged  on  in  silence, 


A  Smugglers  Den.  1 5 5 

until  they  had  entered  the  lane  leading  to  the  Priory.     Then 
Temple  took  out  his  watch. 

"  Ten  minutes  past  the  half  hour,  I  declare,"  he  said. 
"  What  a  time  we  have  been  coming  home." 

"  Not  longer  than  usual,  I  think,"  observed  Wright,  "  and 
we  are  in  plenty  of  time.  The  gate  won't  be  locked  for  more 
than  half-an-hour." 

"  I  daresay,  George,"  said  Temple  in  a  lower  tone,  "  but  I 
was  to  have  met — you  know  whom,  at  half-past  five  exactly — 
met  him  at  Manson's  gate,  and  I  am  afraid  I  shall  miss  him. 
And  even  if  that  doesn't  happen,  I  shall  very  likely  be  late 
myself." 

"  Miss  him — miss  Harry  Wilder,  ye  mane  ? "  exclaimed 
O'Toole,  who  had  overheard  his  words. 

Temple  looked  annoyed.  "  It  is  no  business  of  yours, 
O'Toole,"  he  said  crossly,  "  whom  I  may  be  going  to  meet ! " 

"  Not  the  least  taste  in  life,"  returned  Maurice  ;  "  only  if  it's 
Harry  Wilder  ye're  thinking  of,  ye'll  be  glad  to  know  that  if 
ye  have  missed  him,  he  hasn't  missed  you.  See  yonder  where 
he  sits  on  the  stile,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  Will  I 
give  him  a  hail  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  rejoined  Temple  hastily.  "  I'll  just  run  up  and 
speak  to  him.  Go  on,  please,  I'll  run  after  you  and  catch  you 
before  you  reach  the  house,  or  any  way  soon  afterwards." 

He  hurried  off  and  the  others  walked  on. 

"  I  thought  Temple  had  promised  to  give  Harry  Wilder  up," 
observed  Dilke,  with  one  of  his  sneers.  "  Didn't  we  hear  so, 
Maurice?" 

"  To  be  sure  we  did,"  replied  the  Irishman.  "  We  were 
told  that  Temple  had  promised  his  father — though,  to  be  sure, 


I $6  Who  did  it? 

he's  dead — perhaps  it  was  Harry  Wilder's  father,  but  for 
certain  he  had  promised  somebody  that  he  wouldn't  meet 
Harry  Wilder  again,  even  if  Harry  met  him.  There  was  a 
regular  shindy,  you  know.  Temple  had  been  up  at  the  King's 
Arms  playing  billiards  with  Harry  and  some  one  else,  and  had 
lost  a  power  of  money " 

"  Had  won  a  power  of  money,  you  mean,  Maurice,"  broke 
in  Rawes.  "  It  was  Colonel  Wilder  complained  that  Harry 
had  lost  ever  so  much.  He  didn't  think  all  had  been 
fair " 

"  If  you  are  determined  to  rake  up  an  old  story  which  had 
better  be  forgotten,  at  all  events  you  had  better  stick  to  the 
facts,"  cried  Wright  indignantly.  "  I  know  what  passed  well 
enough  to  say  that  no  one  ever  accused  Charlie  of  anything 
unfair,  and  he  hadn't  won  money :  he  had  lost  it.  It  was  of 
breaking  the  rules  of  the  school  in  going  to  the  King's  Arms 
that  he  was  accused.  I  know  the  Colonel  thinks  very  well  of 
Charlie,  and  has  never  forbidden  Harry  to  be  friends  with  him 
— only  he  wont  let  them  meet  often  during  the  half-year, 
because  it  is  contrary  to  the  Doctor's  rules." 

"That's  all  very  fine,"  said  Rawes ;  "  but  I  am  not  to  be 
bamboozled  that  way.  I  know  they  were  forbidden  to  meet 
any  more — not  during  the  half-year  only,  but  not  at  all. 
Temple  promised  that,  or  he  would  not  have  been  let  off  so 
easy." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  insinuate  that  Charlie  is  breaking  his 
word  in  meeting  Harry  Wilder  now  ? "  exclaimed  Winburne 
indignantly. 

"  It  looks  rather  like  it,"  returned  Rawes. 

"Musha,   be   easy,   Dick,"   interposed   O'Toole.      "Ye're 


A  Smuggler's  Den.  1 57 

coming  it  a  trifle  too  strong.  No  one  knows  what  took  place 
on  the  occasion  ye  refer  to  except  the  Doctor  and  Colonel 
Wilder,  and,  to  be  sure,  Charlie  Temple  himself—  " 

"  And  Temple  has  been  too  wise  to  say  anything  about  it," 
supplemented  Rawes. 

"  Shut  your  potato  trap,  my  jewel,"  cried  Maurice,  a  good 
deal  provoked  at  the  interruption.  "  Shut  your  potato  trap, 
and  give  your  red  rag  a  holiday  !  Ye're  talking  without  book, 
as  they  say.  Charlie  Temple  isn't  very  fond  of  you,  Dick 
Rawes,  or  of  Stephen  Graves,  or  maybe  of  me  either,  but  he 
is  a  gentleman  and  a  man  of  his  word  for  all  that." 

"  Bravo,  Maurice,"  cried  Wright,  "  let  us  shake  a  fist  upon 
it.  I  don't  know  for  certain  what  Charlie  may  want  with 
Harry  Wilder,  or  Harry  Wilder  with  Charlie,  but  I'll  wager  a 
handsome  sum  that  it  is  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of." 

"  You  are  welcome  to  your  opinion,"  said  Rawes  coldly. 
"  I  shall  keep  mine." 

"  And  welcome,"  said  O'Toole.  "  I  don't  want  it,  I'm  sure. 
Well,  Fred,"  he  continued,  addressing  Cressingham,  who  was 
standing  at  the  gate  in  company  with  Tom  Cobbe  awaiting 
their  arrival,  "so  you  and  Burton  have  got  home  before 
us." 

"  I  have  got  home,"  answered  Cressingham.  "  Clement 
hasn't  come  in  yet,  I  am  expecting  him  every  moment." 

"  Here  he  is,"  shouted  half-a-dozen  voices,  as  Burton  came 
running  up  splashed  from  head  to  foot,  and  his  face  very  red, 
as  though  he  had  run  a  great  distance  without  stopping. 

"  Here  he  is,"  repeated  O'Toole,  "  the  very  man  and  no 
other.  How  did  ye  manage  to  get  out  of  that  cave  now,  I 
wonder.  Ye  didn't  go  beyond  it  unless  a  bird  carried  ye  off 


158  Who  did  iff 

on  its  back,  like  Baron  Munchausen.  I  looked  for  your 
footsteps,  and  they  hadn't  gone  a  yard  beyond  the  cave." 

"  No,  we  didn't  go  beyond  the  cave,  Maurice,"  said  Cress- 
ingham,  noticing  that  Burton  looked  embarrassed,  "  not  a  yard 
beyond  it,  as  you  say." 

"  And  how  did  ye  get  out,  then,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  "  con- 
tinued Maurice.  "  Have  ye  got  a  coat  of  darkness,  like  Jack 
the  Giant  Killer,  or  were  ye  hid  cunningly  after  all,  in  some 
corner  we  couldn't  find  ?  " 

"  That's  tellings,  Maurice,"  said  Cressingham,  laughing.  "  I 
know  what  I  know." 

"And  Tom  Cobbe  here  looks  as  if  he  knew  what  he  knew," 
added  Wright.  "  Well,  Tom,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  was  directed  by  the  Doctor  to  tell  the  young  gentlemen, 
that  he  desired  their  presence  in  the  school-room  as  soon  as  I 
had  locked  the  gate,"  replied  the  school  servant. 

"  Our  presence — in  the  school-room,"  repeated  Wright. 
"Is  there  going  to  be  any  row  ?  " 

"There  is  mostly  what  you  are  pleased  to  call  'a  row,'  Mr 
Wright,  when  the  young  gentlemen  gets  together,  and  the 
fact  is  to  be  regretted,"  replied  Tom  sedately.  "  But  I  am  not 
aware  that  there  is  likely  to  be  any  other  row.  Mr  Knyvett 
have  come  over  from  Wickfield —  " 

"  Mr  Knyvett ! "  interrupted  Cressingham,  glancing  as  he 
spoke  at  Burton.  "  Do  you  know  what  he  has  come  about  ?  " 

"  Neither  the  Doctor  nor  Mr  Knyvett  thought  fit  to  inform 
me,"  said  Cobbe,  "  and  therefore  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  tell 
you.  But  it  is  time  to  lock  the  gate,  young  gentlemen.  Six 
o'clock  has  struck." 

'  Stop  a  bit,  Tom,"  cried  Winburne.   "  Temple  hasn't  come 


A  Smugglers  Den.  1 59 

in  yet.  Don't  lock  him  out  He  was  only  a  little  behind  us. 
He'll  be  sure  to  be  here  in  a  minute." 

"  My  duty  will  allow  of  my  waiting  three  minutes,  Mr  Win- 
burne,  but  not  a  morsel  longer,"  replied  Tom. 

"I  say,  what  is  to  be  done?"  said  Wright,  apart  to  Win- 
burn  e.  "  Charlie  will  get  into  a  tremendous  row.  The  Doctor 
will  be  sure  if  he  is  late  to  ask  him  where  he  has  been,  and 
he'll  be  obliged  to  say  he  has  been  with  Harry  Wilder.  The 
Doctor  wont  like  that,  because  though  Charlie  isn't  absolutely 
forbidden  to  see  Hairy  during  the  half,  the  Doctor  has  begged 
him  not  to  do  so,  and  then — " 

"  And  then  Thornton  will  be  asking  Charlie  what  he  wanted 
to  see  Harry  Wilder  about,  and  he'll  be  obliged  to  say  it  was 
to  borrow  a  pistol  of  him." 

"  We  don't  know  that,"  interrupted  Wright. 

"  We  don't  know  it  to  be  sure,"  returned  Winburne,  "  but 
it  is  twenty  to  one,  that  is  it.  Look  here,  Tom.  We  left  Mr 
Temple  at  the  end  of  the  second  field  from  this  talking  to 
some  one.  He  doesn't  know  what  the  time  is,  or  he  would 
have  been  in  before  this.  I'll  just  run  down  to  the  hedge  and 
shout  to  him." 

"Impossible,  Mr  Winburne,"  answered  Cobbe.  "You 
appear  to  forget  that  I  have  my  duty  to  perform ;  and  the 
Doctor  will  be  in  the  schoolroom  in  a  minute  now,  if  he  hasn't 
gone  in  already." 

He  moved  towards  the  gate  with  the  key  in  his  hand.  But 
at  that  moment  there  was  a  scuffle,  apparently,  among  the 
boys,  and  Wright  reeled  back  with  such  force  against  Cobbe, 
that  they  both  rolled  over  on  the  grass  plot.  Wright  sprang 
nimbly  up  again,  profusely  apologizing  to  Tom  for  the  tumble 


160  Who  did  it? 

he  had  caused  him,  which  he  declared  to  be  altogether  the 
fault  of  Warner  and  Winburne,  who  had  now  run  into  the  house. 

Tom  accepted  his  apologies  with  a  rueful  distrust,  born  of 
long  experience;  but  he  was  not  so  wasteful  of  time  and 
word  as  to  offer  any  remonstrance. 

"  Give  me  the  key  anyhow,  Mr  Wright,"  he  said.  "  It  is 
ten  minutes  past  the  hour,  and  the  Doctor  will  be  angry." 

"The  key?"  repeated  Wright.  "Have  you  lost  the  key? 
Who  can  have  got  it  ?  One  of  those  fellows  must  have  picked 
it  up,  and  taken  it  away  inadvertently.  Here,  Hibbert,  just 
go  into  the  house,  and  ask  Winburne  and  Warner  to  look  in 
their  pockets.  They  must  have  carried  it  off  by  mistake !" 

"  I  tell  you  what,  Mr  Wright,"  exclaimed  Cobbe,  startled 
out  of  his  measured  forms  of  speech,  "  if  you  don't  give  me 
the  key  this  minute,  I'll  go  to  the  Doctor. 

Just  at  this  moment  Temple  made  his  appearance,  not 
coming  along  the  footpath  from  Walescliff  as  they  had  expected, 
but  issuing  from  the  cover  of  the  trees.  He  came  hurrying 
along,  looking  confused  and  awkward,  but  evidently  relieved 
to  find  the  gate  still  unlocked. 

"Hooroo,"  shouted  OToole,  ''here's  Temple  at  last — all 
behind,  like  the  cow's  tail !  What  made  ye  come  that  way, 
man,  when  we  were  looking  for  ye  the  tither?" 

"I  came  the — the  most  convenient  way,"  stammered  Temple. 
"  I  was  afraid  I  was  late  !" 

"  And  so  were  we,  Charlie,"  said  Wright.  "  Why,  Tom, 
here's  the  key,  after  all,  I  declare.  How  in  the  world  could  it 
have  found  its  way  into  my  trousers'  pocket !" 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    HAWLEY    EXHIBITION. 

THE  boys  awaited  Dr  Thornton's  arrival  with  a  good  deal  of 
interest  and  some  anxiety.  The  Doctor  seldom  desired  the 
presence  of  the  whole  school,  unless  some  serious  offence  had 
been  committed,  or  some  important  announcement  had  to  be 
made  to  them ;  and  there  was  a  good  deal  of  speculation — 
to  quote  their  favourite  mode  of  expressing  themselves — as  to 
"  what  was  up  now."  There  is  seldom  a  time  when  school- 
boys are  not  conscious  of  some  offence  committed ;  which,  if 
known,  would  draw  down  the  wrath  of  their  masters.  "  If 
you  meet  a  boy,  sir,"  the  great  Dr  Johnson  is  reported  to  have 
said,  "  if  you  meet  a  boy,  box  his  ears ;  for  either  he  has  just 
done  mischief,  or  he  is  just  going  to  do  it."  Most  school- 
masters, it  is  to  be  feared,  would,  to  a  considerable  extent, 
at  all  events,  endorse  the  Doctor's  opinion. 

On  the  present  occasion,  several  gravamina  at  once  occurred 
to  various  individuals  among  the  boys  present,  as  being  the 
possible  theme  of  the  approaching  homily.  There  was  the 
affair  with  the  pistols,  which  had  come  off  a  week  or  so  pre- 
viously. 

"  Do  you  think  any  one  can  have  told  Thornton,  or  old 

L 


1 62  Who  did  it? 

Hepburn,  of  that  match  between  you  and  Temple  ?  "  asked 
Taunton.  "I  suppose  old  Grimes  hasn't  told  any  of  the 
masters  of  your  having  borrowed  his  pistols,  has  he  ?  " 

"  It's  very  unlikely,"  said  Graves.  "  Grimes  is  a  good- 
natured  old  chap,  and  he  must  know  that  Thornton  would 
make  a  row,  if  he  heard  of  it.  He  has  seen  lots  of  things  of 
the  same  kind,  and  has  never  reported  them." 

"  And  besides,"  said  Dilke,  "  he'd  get  into  a  row  himself 
for  having  lent  the  pistols.  Thornton  is  a  magistrate,  you 
know,  and  if  he  brought  the  matter  before  the  bench,  Grimes 
might  be  dismissed  from  his  office.  I  agree  with  Stephen,  it 
is  most  improbable  that  he  has  said  anything  about  the 
pistols." 

Again  there  was  the  business  about  the  visit  of  the  gipsy, 
and  what  had  become  of  her.  The  quarrel  between  Captain 
Gurdon  and  the  senior  usher  had  never  been  made  up.  Both 
the  belligerents  had  been  making  inquiries  in  all  directions, 
each  being  resolved  to  prove  the  other  wrong.  If  the  con- 
stables had  lighted  on  Mother  Meggots,  she'd  be  as  likely  as 
not  to  reveal  Temple's  share  in  the  affair.  So  reasoned 
Wright  and  Winburne,  and  their  coterie. 

Apparently  Temple  himself  was  possessed  with  some  idea 
of  the  kind.  He  seemed  unusually  nervous  and  absent,  some- 
times not  answering  questions  put  to  him,  sometimes  answer- 
ing them  wide  of  the  mark.  He  twice  asked  Mr  Wilkes  for 
permission  to  leave  the  room,  and  when  questioned  as  to  his 
reason,  could  only  say  awkwardly  that  he  wanted  to  fetch 
something  he  had  dropped.  If  the  boys  had  not  been  so  en- 
grossed by  their  own  speculations,  his  demeanour  would 
have  attracted  notice. 


The  Haw  ley  Exhibition.  163 

There  was  a  third  conjecture  as  to  the  reason  why  they  had 
been  called  together,  but  this  was  confined  to  Burton  and 
Cressingham,  who  were  seated  in  a  corner  of  the  room  con- 
versing in  a  subdued  tone. 

"  I  say,  Clem,"  said  Cressingham,  "  has  that  business  about 
the  convicts-,  or  sailors,  or  whatever  they  were,  got  to  the  ears 
of  the  masters,  do  you  think  ?  This  officer,  who  has  been 
making  inquiries  at  Curlew,  may  have  found  out  that  the 
fellows  had  gone  across  to  Deadman's  Point  with  two  of  the 
Doctor's  pupils,  and  has  put  Thornton  up  to  making  inquiries. 
It  will  be  awkward,  wont  it,  if  we  are  asked  ?  " 

"You  know  what  I  told  them,  Fred,"  returned  Burton. 
"  I  said  I  should  say  nothing  unless  I  was  asked,  and  if  I  was, 
should  decline  to  answer." 

"  Yes,  that  is  what  we  both  agreed  to,"  said  Cressingham. 
"  But  our  refusing  to  answer  will  be  much  the  same  thing 
as  admitting  that  we  did  take  those  two  fellows  across, 
wont  it  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  it  will,"  said  Burton  ;  "  but  we  can't  help  that. 
We  have  given  our  promise,  and  we  have  nothing  to  do,  but 
to  keep  to  it.  Here's  the  Doctor  at  last.  Well,  we  shall  know 
the  worst  now,  at  all  events." 

As  he  spoke  the  door  opened,  and  the  Headmaster,  followed 
by  Mr  Hepburn  and  a  tall  gentleman  in  black,  known  to 
many  present  as  Mr  Knyvett,  entered  the  room. 

The  Doctor's  first  words  set  at  rest  the  various  anxieties 
which  had  troubled  his  hearers.  "  I  have  an  announcement 
to  make  to  you,"  he  said,  "  of  some  importance.  Mr  Hawley, 
the  father  of  the  lady  who  now  owns  Hawley  Manor,  some 
years  ago  bequeathed  an  annuity  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 


1 64  Who  did  it? 

pounds  a  year,  to  a  relative  of  his,  named  Thorne,  but  ordered 
at  the  same  time  that  at  Mr  Thome's  death  the  money 
should  go  to  founding  an  exhibition  for  one  of  the  senior 
scholars  of  this  school,  at  which  Mr  Hawley  himself  had  been 
educated.  Fifty  pounds  a  year,  for  three  years,  was  to  be 
given  to  the  pupil  who  was  at  the  head  of  the  first  class,  at  the 
close  of  the  winter  half-year.  Mr  Thorne  was  comparatively 
a  young  man,  and  I  never  entertained  any  expectation  that 
the  bequest  would  take  effect,  so  far  as  this  school  is  concerned, 
during  my  lifetime.  Mr  Knyvett,  however,  has  this  evening 
brought  the  tidings  of  Mr  Thome's  death  after  a  short  illness. 
He  further  states  that  the  annuitant  had  received  two  of  the 
quarterly  payments  due  for  the  present  year,  but  Miss  Hawley 
kindly  engages  to  replace  these,  so  that  the  exhibition  may  be 
given  entire  in  the  present  year.  Whoever,  therefore,  among 
the  first-class  boys  comes  out  first  in  marks  at  the  close  of  this 
half-year,  will  be  entitled  to  the  '  Hawley  Exhibition,'  as  it  is 
to  be  called,  of  fifty  pounds  a  year  for  three  years.  I  need 
not  add  that  I  have  requested  Mr  Knyvett  to  convey  to  Miss 
Hawley  the  thanks  of  the  school  generally,  as  well  as  my  own 
more  particularly,  for  her  great  liberality." 

He  was  on  the  point  of  withdrawing,  when  Mr  Hepburn 
stepped  forward. 

"With  your  permission,  sir,"  he  said,  "  I  should  like  to  put 
a  question  to  you.  It  has  always  been  the  practice,  so  long  as 
I  can  remember  the  school,  in  event  of  any  boy  receiving  what 
is  called  a  black  cross,  to  strike  off  one  hundred  marks  from 
his  half-year's  total ;  and  in  event  of  his  receiving  two  such 
marks,  to  declare  him  incapable  of  obtaining  any  prize  at 
all." 


T/te  Hawley  Exhibition.  165 

The  Doctor  bowed.  "  No  doubt,  Mr  Hepburn,"  he  said, 
"  that  has  always  been  the  practice." 

"  Once  or  twice,  if  my  recollection  serves  me,  it  has  had 
a  material  effect  in  determining  the  half-year's  prizes." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  are  correct,  though  I  can  remember  at 
this  moment  no  particular  case.  But  why  do  you  ask?" 

"  I  wish  to  know  whether  this  Hawley  Exhibition  will  be 
liable  to  the  same  rule." 

"  You  mean — supposing  any  one  of  the  first-class  boys  were 
to  incur  the  penalty  of  a  black  cross  to  his  name,  whether 
a  hundred  marks  would  be  taken  off  his  list,  and  whether,  sup- 
posing him  to  incur  two  black  crosses,  the  offender  would 
become  incapable  of  obtaining  the  Exhibition,  whatever  his 
position  on  the  school  register  might  be  ?  " 

"  That  is  what  I  wish  to  ask,  sir." 

"  Well,  the  contingency  is  a  very  unlikely  one  to  occur,  I 
should  hope  ;  but  supposing  it  to  occur,  I  see  no  reason  why 
the  regular  custom  should  be  departed  from.  The  penalty 
ought  to  be,  and  no  doubt  would  be  exacted." 

Mr  Hepburn  bowed,  and  soon  afterwards  the  Doctor  with- 
drew, accompanied  by  Mr  Knyvett  and  Mr  Hepburn,  who  had 
been  invited  to  supper. 

The  announcement,  so  unexpectedly  made,  produced  a  great 
sensation  in  the  school.  The  contest  for  the  first-class  prize 
always  occasioned  some  interest  among  the  boys,  who  are  wont 
to  feel  some  concern  in  everything  relating  to  their  seniors ; 
and  in  the  present  year  the  contest  between  Burton,  Graves, 
and  Temple — three  boys  so  unlike  one  another,  and  yet  each 
with  his  special  claims  to  the  first  place,  rendered  the  struggle 
more  than  commonly  exciting.  The  quiet,  steady-going  set, 


1 66  Who  did  it? 

of  whom  Cressingham,  Hill,  and  Lander  might  be  considered 
as  the  leaders,  maintained  that  though  Clement  Burton  did 
not  possess  the  brilliant  ability  of  Temple,  or  the  solid  power 
of  Graves,  the  unvarying  soundness  of  his  work  made  him 
more  than  a  match  for  either  of  his  antagonists.  When  Graves 
delivered  an  essay  on  some  historical  subject,  or  Temple  a 
brilliant  copy  of  Greek  Iambics,  or  a  clever  Latin  epigram,  and 
the  Doctor  bestowing  high  encomiums  on  the  performances, 
endorsed  them  with  a  number  of  marks  which  added  formid- 
able numbers  to  their  total  on  the  register,  they  would  remark 
that  Temple  and  Graves  increased  their  score,  only  on  rare 
occasions,  while  Burton  was  slowly  but  surely  increasing  his 
total  every  day  of  the  half-year. 

It  needs  not  to  say  that  the  battle  between  the  three  com- 
petitors, however  much  it  might,  up  to  the  present  time,  have 
engaged  the  attention  of  the  boys,  became  now  a  matter  of 
much  greater  interest  in  their  eyes. 

Hitherto  the  palm  had  consisted  of  some  handsomely  bound 
book.  Gibbon's  "  Decline  and  Fall,"  or  Russell's  "  Modern 
Europe,"  or  some  such  work — prizes  for  which  Graves  cared 
nothing,  and  Temple  very  little.  But  such  a  sum  as  fifty 
pounds  a  year  for  three  years — who  was  there  that  would  not 
care  for  that  ?  The  boys  broke  up  into  parties  of  five  or  six, 
almost  before  the  Doctor  left  the  room,  and  were  soon  busily 
engaged  in  discussing  the  chances  of  their  favourites  and  the 
probable  issue  of  the  competition.  The  register  of  marks,  it 
should  be  explained,  was  kept  by  Mr  Hepburn,  and,  as  a  rule, 
kept  very  carefully.  The  junior  in  every  class,  when  the  work 
for  the  day  was  over,  was  required  to  carry  a  list  of  the  marks 
awarded  to  each  boy  for  that  day's  lessons  and  compositions  to 


The  Hawley  Exhibition.  167 

the  senior  usher,  and  were  by  him  added  every  evening  to  the 
register.  Mr  Hepburn  once  in  every  week  summed  up  each 
boy's  total,  but  he  did  not  communicate  the  result  to  the  boys. 
Therefore  though  the  latter  might  form  a  general  idea  as  to 
whose  name  stood  at  the  head  of  the  list,  they  knew  nothing 
with  any  certainty.  Where  there  was  anything  like  equality 
between  two  competitors,  they  could  only  form  vague  con- 
jectures. 

In  the  present  half-year,  of  which  only  a  few  weeks  had 
elapsed,  one  or  two  of  the  juniors  had  taken  the  trouble  to 
keep  a  copy  of  the  lists  which  they  had  delivered  in  to  Mr 
Hepburn,  and  had  compared  their  notes.  By  these  means  it 
had  been  ascertained,  with  tolerable  accuracy,  that  Burton 
was  some  ten  or  twelve  marks  in  advance  of  Temple  and 
Graves,  who  were  very  nearly  equal,  while  the  fourth,  Cressing- 
ham,  was  more  than  twenty  in  arrear  of  these  two.  So  far 
then  the  day  went  with  Burton;  but  both  Graves's  and 
Temple's  supporters  insisted  upon  it  that  there  would  very 
speedily  now  be  a  total  change  in  the  order  of  things.  They 
were  able  to  express  their  opinions  the  more  freely,  because 
both  the  last  mentioned  boys  were  absent  from  the  schoolroom, 
and  Burton  and  Cressingham  were  talking  apart  in  a  corner, 
too  far  off  to  hear  what  the  others  were  saying. 

"  You'll  see  Graves  go  ahead  now  like  a  race-horse,"  said 
Rawes.  "  He  doesn't  care  much  to  get  some  rotten  old  book 
about  Greek  or  Roman  antiquities,  which  would  be  stuck  up 
in  one  of  the  upper  shelves  of  the  library  at  Wilworth ;  but 
fifty  pounds  is  another  pair  of  boots  altogether.  That  gun  he 
was  so  set  upon  buying,  and  for  which  his  guardian  wouldn't 
shell  out  the  money — fifty  pounds  will  buy  that,  and  leave  a 


1 68  Who  did  it? 

comfortable  sum  to  be  spent  in  powder  and  bullets.  He 
won't  let  this  prize  slip  through  his  fingers,  I'll  warrant  you. 
It  won't  be  only  an  essay  now  and  then,  which  is  a  thing  he 
particularly  fancies,  and  for  which  the  Doctor  always  gives  him 
a  pot  of  marks — it  won't  be  only  the  essays  that  he'll  shine  in. 
He  can  do  verses  as  well  as  Temple,  and  the  regular  school- 
work  better  than  Burton,  if  he  chooses  it,  and  he  will  choose 
it  too.  See  if  he  doesn't." 

"  Will  his  guardian  let  him  have  the  money,  if  he  gets  the 
prize?"  suggested  O'Toole.  "  My  guardian — that's  my  uncle 
— he  wouldn't,  the  nagur  !  He'd  pay  my  school-bills  with  it, 
and  save  his  own  pocket.  Didn't  my  godfather,  Phelim 
O'Casey — didn't  he  leave  me  a  hundred  pounds  in  his  will, 
and  didn't  it  go  to  pay  some  dirty  tailor's  bills  ?  '  The  bills  have 
been  standing  a  long  time,  Maurice,'  says  my  uncle,  'and 
the  man  ought  to  be  paid.'  '  Troth  and  it's  a  pity  ye  didn't 
think  of  that  before,'  says  I.  '  Mr  O'Casey  left  the  money  to 
me,  and  not  to  Tim  O'Shaughnessy,  the  tailor,  nor  to  you 
either,  uncle  Thady,  I'm  thinking  ! '  But  I  might  as  well 
have  talked  to  the  rock  of  Cashel  as  to  him.  Sorra  a  penny 
of  the  hundred  pounds  ever  went  into  my  pocket,  and  may- 
be none  of  the  fifty  would  find  its  way  into  Stephen's." 

"Oh,  old  Lumley  wouldn't  grab  Stephen's  money,  I'll 
answer  for  that,"  said  Taunton.  "He  cuts  up  rough  some- 
times about  his  spending  too  much  money.  But  what  Stephen 
earned,  so  to  speak,  himself,  by  his  own  exertions,  he'd  be 
safe  to  let  him  keep.  Lumley's  not  a  bad  old  fellow  at  bottom, 
though  he  kicks  up  a  row  now  and  then." 

Meanwhile  equally  confident  predictions  were  uttered  by 
Temple's  adherents. 


The  Harvley  Exhibition.  169 

"  This  is  a  rare  stroke  of  good  luck  for  Charlie,"  remarked 
Wright.  "  It's  just  the  very  thing  he  wanted.  I  suppose  fifty 
pound  is  fifty  pound  to  almost  everybody, — that  is,  everybody 
would  like  to  have  it.  But  it  is  a  different  matter  to  Graves, 
who  will  have,  they  say,  ever  so  many  thousands  a  year,  as 
soon  as  he  comes  of  age ;  or  to  Burton,  who,  if  he  hasn't  much 
of  his  own,  anyway,  has  a  rich  old  aunt,  who  will  leave  him 
all  her  money  some  day  or  other — from  what  it  is  to  Charlie." 

"Ay,  I  know  his  mother  is  poor,"  said  Winburne,  "and 
fifty  pounds  a-year  for  three  years  would  be  a  great  haul  to 
him.  But  there  are  two  things  to  be  considered  before  we 
settle  that  Charlie  is  to  have  this  money — first,  that  he  will 
work  hard  to  get  it,  and  secondly,  that  Burton  and  Graves 
won't  work  hard  too." 

"Charlie  is  safe  to  work  for  this,"  said  Warner.  "  He  has 
been  doing  his  best  for  the  last  three  or  four  weeks,  and  he 
knows  this  Hawley  Exhibition,  or  whatever  it  is  to  be  called, 
is  worth  getting." 

"And  as  for  Burton  and  Graves,"  added  Wright,  "no 
doubt  they  are  dangerous  horses  to  run  against.  But  Charlie, 
when  he  really  puts  it  on,  is  a  match  and  more  for  either  of 
them.  Burton  is  one  of  your  steady  goers.  He  makes  good 
running,  and  keeps  it  up  without  flagging.  But  in  composi- 
tion, which  is  what  tells  most  on  the  register  of  marks,  Charlie 
will  now  and  then  shoot  ahead  of  him  like  lightning ;  and  in 
a  stand-up  fight  with  Stephen  Graves,  I'd  back  him  of  the 
two,  though  that  would  be  a  much  more  doubtful  affair. 
But  Charlie  has  a  strong  reason  for  working,  and  Graves 
hasn't  There's  only  one  thing  that  is  likely  to  cause  him  to 
lose  it" 


I/O  Who  did  it? 

"  And  what  is  that,  George  ?  "  asked  Hibbert. 

"  Charlie's  getting  into  some  serious  scrapes,  and  having 
a  'nigger '  stuck  on  to  his  name,"  replied  Wright.  "  We  must 
all  do  our  best  to  prevent  that,  and  also  keep  a  sharp  look 
out  on  Ravves  and  Dilke,  and  his  set  It's  not  only  Hepburn 
who  dislikes  Charlie,  and  would  do  him  a  mischief  if  he  could. 
That  fellow,  Dick  Rawes,  hates  him.  He  has  some  reason  to 
be  sure,  and  he'd  have  no  scruple  in  playing  any  dirty  trick, 
that  might  lose  Charlie  the  day." 

"  It's  a  good  job  that  the  Doctor  and  Hepburn  were  both 
out  of  the  way  when  that  pistol  shooting  was  going  on  the 
other  day,"  remarked  Hibbert. 

"  What,  you  mean  if  they  had  been  caught,  it  would  have 
damaged  Charlie's  chance." 

"  It  would  have  done  for  it  altogether,"  returned  Hibbert, 
"  and  Graves's  too.  Hepburn  would  have  stuck  a  '  nigger  'on 
to  their  names,  as  sure  as  fate.  And  a  hundred  marks  off  a 
fellow's  chalk  would  be  too  much  for  him  to  make  up  after- 
wards, let  him  work  ever  so  hard." 

"  I  don't  quite  know  that,"  said  Winburne  ;  "  but  of  course 
the  odds  must  be  enormously  against  his  winning." 

"  I  agree  with  you,"  said  Wright,"  "  and  therefore  I'm 
particularly  anxious  now  that  the  pistol  match  which  was 
agreed  upon  between  Graves  and  Temple  should  not  come  off 
to-morrow.  I'm  sorry  I  persuaded  him  to  shoot  it." 

"  I  don't  think  you  need  be  afraid  of  its  coming  off,"  said 
Winburne. 

"  Why  not?  "  asked  Wright.  "  The  fellows  who  were  down 
on  the  shore  that  day,  told  me  it  had  been  positively  settled 
that  it  was  to  be  shot  on  Saturday  the  iQth,  at  twelve  o'clock 


The  Hawley  Exhibition.  171 

— that's  to-morrow,  you  know.  And  Charlie  has  quite  made 
up  his  mind  to  shoot  it." 

"  Ay,  but  Graves  hasn't  got  the  pistols  that  he  sent  for," 
rejoined  Winburne.  "  I  was  by  when  Tom  came  back  from 
the  coach  office,  at  two  o'clock  to-day.  Graves  had  given 
him  a  shilling  to  fetch  a  small  box  which  he  expected  by  the 
night  coach.  Tom  said  nothing  had  come  for  him  yet,  but 
the  box  might  come  by  the  day  coach.  Graves  was  properly 
put  out,  and  refused  to  be  one  of  the  hares  in  the  paper-chase. 
'  We  must  manage  this  somehow,'  he  says  to  Taunton,  and 
they  walked  off  together." 

"  Well,  but  if  the  pistols  come  by  the  day  coach,"  said 
Hibbert,  "  that  would  do  as  well." 

"  No,  the  day  coach  never  gets  in  before  half-past  two  in 
the  morning,"  returned  Winburne.  "  And  then  the  parcels  are 
locked  up  in  the  office,  and  not  sent  out  till  the  night  coach 
comes  in.  You  may  get  them  by  sending,  but  Graves  couldn't 
send  before  twelve.  I  heard  Tom  tell  him  plainly  he  couldn't 
go  on  any  message  before  dinner  time,  if  it  were  ever  so.  That 
is  what  made  Graves  so  savage.  As  Jerry  Taunton  remarked. 
'  Even  if  the  pistols  should  come  by  the  Eclipse,  he  couldn't 
get  'em  by  twelve  o'clock.'  " 

"  He  can  borrow  Grimes's  pistols  again,"  said  Hibbert, 
"  and  take  care  this  time  that  the  bullets  fit  tight." 

"He  wont  do  that,"  observed  Winburne.  "He  said  he 
wouldn't,  and  he's  a  fellow  that  always  sticks  to  what  he  says. 
Well,  Wright,  I  think  you  may  feel  pretty  secure  that  this  match 
wont  come  off ;  for  even  if  Graves  should  get  his  pistols,  I'm 
sure  Temple  has  got  nothing  to  shoot  with." 

"  I  thought   he  intended   borrowing  a  pistol  from   Harry 


1 72  Who  did  it? 

Wilder,"  remarked  Hibbert,  "  and  that  was  what  he  met 
Harry  for  this  afternoon." 

"  I  thought  so,  too,"  said  Winburne.  "  Didn't  he  bring  it 
up  with  him  ?  " 

"  Well,  no,  he  didn't,"  said  Wright.  "  Wilder  may  have 
agreed  to  bring  it  up  here,  or  to  Hanger's  Cliffs  to-morrow,  but 
Charlie  didn't  bring  it  in  with  him.  I  was  by  when  he  came  in 
this  evening.  I  had  the  curiosity  to  feel  his  coat  pocket,  and 
there  was  certainly  no  pistol  in  it.  But  pistol  or  no  pistol,  we 
must  try  to  dissuade  him  from  shooting  this  match." 

"Let's  go  and  talk  to  him,"  said  Winburne.  "We  had 
better  try  it  on  to-night.  We  shall  hardly  have  an  opportunity 
to-morrow." 

"  Where  is  Charlie  ? "  inquired  Warner.  "  I  haven't  seen 
him  since  the  Doctor  left  the  room." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Hibbert.  "  I  have  been  looking  for  him  ever 
so  long." 

"  Here  he  is,"  suddenly  exclaimed  Wright,  as  Temple  entered 
the  room,  closely  followed  by  Cobbe,  carrying  the  Doctor's 
prayer-book  and  hassock.  "  Why,  where  have  you  been, 
Charlie,  for  the  last  three-quarters  of  an  hour  ?  Out  in  the 
court-yard,  hey  ?  Why,  it  is  raining,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Temple,  "  it's  not  raining,  though  I  think  it 
soon  will." 

"  What  is  that  noise  outside  ?  "  asked  Warner. 

"  Oh,  Mr  Knyvett's  carriage  driving  off,"  said  Temple. 
"  He  has  just  said  good-night  to  the  Doctor." 

"  He'll  have  a  wet  drive,"  remarked  Wright,  looking  through 
the  school  window.  "  Charlie  is  right.  The  rain  will  come 
down  before  long,  and  there'll  be  a  storm  into  the  bargain. 
There's  been  thunder  in  the  air  all  day." 


The  Hawley  Exhibition.  173 

Wright's  remark  was  repeated  by  more  than  one  boy,  as  he 
went  up  to  bed.  The  wind,  which  had  been  rising  for  more 
than  an  hour,  was  now  blowing  a  gale,  and  threatened  to 
become  tenfold  more  violent  before  midnight.  It  howled 
round  the  gables  and  chimneys  of  the  old  Priory  as  though  a 
host  of  demons  had  been  let  loose.  The  rain  still  held  off, 
but  the  threatening  aspect  of  the  skies  warned  the  spectators 
that  it  would  presently  burst  forth  in  all  likelihood  in  a  perfect 
deluge.  The  inmates  of  the  Priory,  however,  cared  little  for 
wind  or  storm.  The  massive  old  walls,  built  centuries  before, 
possibly  to  resist  a  siege,  and  fully  able,  before  the  days  of 
shot  and  shell,  to  do  so,  were  proof  against  the  most  furious 
blast  that  ever  blew,  and  the  small  leaded  window  panes, 
though  they  gave  but  scanty  light,  offered  a  more  solid  resist- 
ance to  the  elements  than  the  large  squares  of  modern  days. 
The  boys  rather  enjoyed  a  storm  than  otherwise.  They  found 
it  pleasant  to  lie  in  their  warm  beds  and  listen  to  the  raving  of 
the  wind,  and  the  roaring  of  the  distant  sea.  Even  the  flashes 
of  lightning  and  the  crash  of  thunder  did  not  alarm  them 
much.  No  one  to  their  knowledge  had  ever  been  hurt,  and  it 
was  picturesque  to  see  the  whole  landscape,  wood,  and  rock, 
and  sea,  suddenly  stand  out  in  the  broad  lurid  light,  and  then 
disappear  as  suddenly  into  darkness. 

But  though  this  was  the  general  feeling,  there  were  excep- 
tions to  it.  "  I  wish  there  were  curtains  to  my  room,"  said 
Cressingham,  as  they  mounted  the  old  oak  staircase  together, 
"or,  what  is  still  better,  shutters  as  you  have.  It  is  very 
pleasant  for  some  things  having  this  room  to  myself,  but  not 
on  a  night  when  there's  lightning  about.  I  shan't  get  a  wink 
of  sleep  till  it's  all  over." 


174  Who  did  iff 

"  Do  you  mind  the  lightning  ?  "  asked  Burton.  "  I  don't 
in  the  least  Why,  Fred,"  he  added,  suddenly,  "you  had 
better  change  rooms  with  me  to-night.  You  can  shut  these 
shutters  and  draw  the  curtain  over  them  too,  and  then  you 
wont  see  anything  of  the  lightning.  I  don't  usually  shut  the 
shutters — except  when  there  is  a  very  bright  moon,  but  they 
quite  keep  that  out" 

Burton,  it  should  be  mentioned,  occupied,  as  head  of  the 
school,  the  best  of  the  boys'  bedrooms — the  one  which  tradi- 
tion said  had  been  the  sleeping  room  of  the  Prior  of  the 
Convent.  He  would  have  been  allowed  to  have  this  to  him- 
self, but  one  of  the  junior  boys  had  been  put  under  his  charge 
that  half-year,  and  his  bed  had,  with  Burton's  consent,  been 
placed  in  his  room.  Little  Taylor,  a  quiet,  timid  boy,  had  the 
same  dislike  as  Cressingham  to  the  lightning,  and  would 
probably  lie  awake  for  more  than  half  the  night,  unless  the 
shutters  should  be  closed.  The  room  allotted  to  Cressingham 
was  a  good  deal  smaller,  and  was  lighted  only  by  a  narrow  slit 
in  the  wall. 

The  latter  caught  at  his  friend's  proposal.  "  I  shall  be  very 
glad  to  accept  your  offer,"  he  said.  "  I  have  no  doubt  I  shall 
sleep  as  sound  as  a  top  in  your  room.  And  I  suppose  no  one 
will  object." 

"  Taylor  wont,"  replied  Burton  ;  "  he'll  be  glad  to  have  the 
shutters  fastened.  Hepburn  might  object,  I  daresay.  He 
might  object  to  anything.  We  had  better  say  nothing  to  him, 
or  anyone  else,  about  it,  or  it  might  get  to  his  ears.  I'll  just 
take  my  night-gown  and  hair-brush  into  your  room,  and  you 
bring  yours  into  mine.  That  will  be  all  that  we  need  do." 

The  change  was  soon  made,  and  the  boys  were  just  on  the 


TJie  Hawley  Exhibition.  175 

point  of  entering  their  rooms,  when  their  attention  was  attracted 
by  voices,  which  came  from  the  floor  below  them.  One  of  the 
speakers  was  anxious  apparently  not  to  be  overheard.  But  in 
the  position  in  which  they  chanced  to  be  standing,  every  word 
was  plainly  audible. 

"  I  can't  let  you  out,  Mr  Temple,"  said  Cobbe.  "  I  didn't 
want  to  get  you  into  trouble,  or  I  ought  to  have  told  the 
Doctor  of  your  having  been  out  before  prayers  in  the  court- 
yard. There's  nothing  he's  more  particular  about ;  and  there 
was  Mr  Knyvett's  carriage  too,  waiting  about,  and  his  coach- 
man saw  you  out  there,  and  might  tell  his  master  of  it,  and 
he'd  tell  the  Doctor." 

"  I  only  want  to  go  out  for  ten  minutes,  Cobbe,"  pleaded 
Temple,  "only  ten  minutes,  I  assure  you.  I  promise  you 
faithfully  to  be  back  in  that  time." 

"  I  can't  do  it,  sir,  it's  as  much  as  my  place  is  worth.  The 
Doctor  would  be  very  angry  if  he  knew  that  you  hadn't  gone 
to  bed.  I'll  go  out  myself  and  fetch  anything  you  may  have 
left  out  there,  if  so  be  that's  what  you  want ;  though  to  be  sure, 
if  you  had  left  anything  out  there,  you  would  have  brought  it 
in  yourself." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  bring  anything  in,  Tom,"  exclaimed 
Temple,  his  excitement  growing  greater  every  moment.  "  I 
only  want  to  go  out  for  ten  minutes.  I  was  prevented  just 
now  because  Mr  Knyvett's  servants  were  standing  outside.  I 
tell  you  I  must  go  out  to-night,  and  I  will,  and  it  will  be  a  bad 
job  for  any  one  or  anything  that  tries  to  stop  me." 

"  Here's  Mr  Hepburn  coming ! "  exclaimed  the  school- 
servant  in  accents  of  dismay.  "  I  hear  his  step.  Run  for  it, 
Mr  Temple,  or  this  here  will  be  a  bad  job  for^w*,  I  judge." 


i/6  Who  did  it? 

At  this  moment,  the  heavy  tread  of  some  one  walking  along 
the  passage  which  led  from  the  Doctor's  drawing-room  to  the 
school  precincts,  became  audible.  The  next  instant,  Temple 
skimmed  lightly  up  the  staircase  to  his  bedroom,  which  corre- 
sponded to  that  of  Cressingham  at  the  further  end  of  the 
gallery ;  while  from  below  came  the  clash  of  the  bolts  which 
Tom  was  drawing. 

"  A  rum  go  that,"  whispered  Cressingham  to  his  friend. 
"  What  can  Temple  want  to  go  out  into  the  court-yard  for  at 
this  time  of  night." 

"  That  is  more  than  I  can  say,  Fred,"  returned  Burton.  "  I 
shouldn't  fancy  the  court-yard  would  be  a  very  pleasant  place 
to  go  for  a  walk  in  to-night.  Hark  !  there  comes  the  rain — a 
regular  downpour,  and  it  will  last  an  hour  or  two  most  likely. 
It  will  be  over  one's  shoes  in  mud  in  another  half-hour  I 
expect ! " 

"  In  less  than  that,"  rejoined  Cressingham  ;  "  and  only  listen 
how  the  wind  is  howling.  Temple  may  say  he  is  determined 
to  go  out,  but  I  expect  he  will  change  his  mind  now.  Rather 
he  than  I  anyway  ! " 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  STRANGE  DISCOVERY. 

WHEN  the  boys  met  in  the  schoolroom  before  prayers  on  the 
following  morning,  all  evidences  of  the  storm  had  disappeared 
from  the  sky ;  which  was  now  as  bright  and  blue  as  though  it 
had  never  been  darkened  by  cloud,  or  had  gleamed  with  light- 
ning. The  wind  had  sunk  to  a  soft  summer  breeze,  and  out  to 
sea  a  long  rolling  swell  was  the  only  remaining  trace  of  the 
wild  commotion  of  the  previous  night.  But  in  the  court-yard 
outside  the  house,  there  were  plain  enough  indications  of  the 
heavy  fall  of  rain,  which  had  lasted  with  a  few  intermissions 
from  ten  o'clock  at  night  to  four  or  five  in  the  morning.  The 
turf  was  so  soft  that  the  shoes  of  any  one  who  walked  over  it 
sank  two  inches  at  least  below  the  surface,  and  in  the  roadway 
there  were  large  pools,  which  the  drains  had  been  insufficient 
to  carry  away.  The  boys  exchanged  their  experiences  of  the 
incidents  of  the  night,  as  they  stood  in  clusters  awaiting  the 
arrival  of  the  masters.  These,  it  would  appear,  were  at  once 
various  and  strange.  Some  insisted  on  it  that  a  party  of 
travellers  had  come  about  the  middle  of  the  night  to  ask  for 
shelter,  others  affirmed  that  there  had  indeed  been  midnight 
visitors,  but  their  object  was  not  shelter  but  plunder.  Others 

M 


178  Who  did  iff 

again  were  positive  that  there  had  been  a  wreck  out  at  sea. 
They  had  distinctly  heard  minute  guns  fired ;  though  this  last 
assertion  was  at  last  diminished  to  a  confident  assurance  that 
one  such  shot,  at  all  events,  had  been  heard.  According  to  a 
fourth  report,  Neptune  had  been  very  active  during  the  night, 
driving  off  the  applicants  for  shelter,  or  the  would-be  robbers, 
as  the  case  might  be. 

George  Wright  was  the  centre  of  one  of  these  groups, 
listening  with  amused  interest  to,  and  passing  his  comments  on, 
the  various  statements  put  forth  by  his  schoolfellows.  Temple 
stood  by,  leaning  against  the  headmaster's  desk.  He  looked 
anxious  and  depressed,  and  paid  little  or  no  heed  to  the  con- 
versation of  his  schoolfellows.  At  another  part  of  the  room 
Graves  and  his  following  were  assembled,  not  talking  about 
the  occurrences  of  last  night,  but  about  a  subject  which 
appeared  to  interest  them  quite  as  much. 

"  You  are  resolved  to  shoot  this  match  then,  Stephen  ?  " 
inquired  Taunton.  "  I  hardly  thought,  after  all,  that  it  would 
ever  come  off." 

"  I  had  undertaken  to  shoot  it,"  answered  Graves  shortly. 

"Yes,  but  circumstances  have  considerably  altered  since 
then,"  observed  Dilke.  "  If  I  don't  very  much  mistake,  Temple 
would  be  very  glad  to  be  off  it" 

"  I  make  no  doubt  he  would,"  exclaimed  Rawes,  "  if  Stephen 
would  let  him.  In  the  first  place,  now  that  Stephen  has  got 
his  pistols  from  Wilworth " 

"  Temple  doesn't  know  that,"  remarked  Payne.  "Why,  even 
we  didn't  know  it  till  some  ten  minutes  ago,  when  Stephen 
said  they  had  arrived,  and  we  don't  know  how  he  got  them 
now," 


A  Strange  Discovery.  179 

He  glanced  somewhat  curiously  at  Graves  as  he  spoke,  but 
Graves  made  no  remark. 

"  It  doesn't  signify,"  said  Taunton,  "  so  far  as  Temple  is 
concerned,  whether  the  pistols  have  come  or  not.  Temple  is 
not  so  much  afraid  of  losing  the  match,  as  of  being  caught 
shooting  it ;  in  which  case  he  would  lose  this  Hawley  exhibi- 
tion, or  whatever  it  is  to  be  called." 

"  What !  he  makes  sure  of  getting  it  then,  does  he  ?"  cried 
Dilke. 

"  I  don't  quite  say  that,"  replied  Taunton,  "  but  he  thinks, 
no  doubt,  that  if  he  tries  hard,  he  has  a  good  chance;  and  that 
is  certainly  no  more  than  the  fact.  But  that  chance  would  be 
of  course  forfeited  if  he  had  a  '  black  cross/  as  he  certainly 
would  have  for  using  firearms.  I  just  want  to  remind  you, 
Steve,  of  that  circumstance  too.  I  suppose,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  you  would  like  to  gain  this  exhibition,  as  much  as  Temple 
does." 

"  Certainly,  Jerry,"  assented  Graves.  "  I  should  have  no 
objection  to  fifty  pounds  a  year  for  three  years  to  help  out  my 
allowance  at  Oxford,  not  to  speak  of  buying  your  cousin's 
gun.  I  needn't  say  I  have  thought  of  all  that.  But  I  choose 
to  set  right  the  mistake  that  was  made  about  my  shooting  and 
Temple's  last  week.  Moreover,  when  I  have  said  I  mean  to 
do  a  thing,  it  is  my  practice  to  do  it,  and  I'm  not  going  to  let 
a  row  with  the  Doctor,  or  the  loss  of  a  prize,  or  a  lot  of  money 
either,  prevent  my  doing  it.  If  the  match  is  shot,  where  I 
suggested,  under  Hanger's  Cliffs,  it  will  be  next  to  impossible 
for  any  one  to  see  us.  They  are  so  high  and  project  so  far 
over  the  sands,  that  no  one  from  the  top  could  discover  what 
is  going  on  below.  The  only  place  we  could  be  seen  from 


i8o  Who  did  it? 

would  be  out  at  sea ;  and  if  a  fellow  was  put  to  watch  at  Cockle 
Head,  he  could  see  any  boat  coming,  and  warn  us  in  time.  I 
consider,  therefore,  there  is  no  risk  of  detection.  But,  any 
way,  I  mean  to  shoot  the  match." 

"Bravo,  Stephen,"  exclaimed  OToole;  "ye're  the  broth  of 
a  boy,  so  ye  are.  But  I  judge  ye'll  not  find  Charlie  Temple 
as  bold  as  yourself.  And  it  takes  two  to  make  a  fight,  as  they 
say  at  Ballycooney." 

"We  had  better  bring  Temple  to  the  point,  Stephen,"  said 
Dilke.  "  Let  us  ask  him  before  Thornton  comes  in." 

"  Very  well,  if  you  like  it,  I  have  no  objection,"  returned 
Graves. 

The  party  moved  up  to  the  spot  where  Temple  and  his 
friends  were  standing,  and  Taunton  addressed  him. 

"  I  suppose,  Temple,"  he  said,  "  you  remember  that  the 
pistol  match  between  you  and  Graves  was  fixed  for  to-day  at 
twelve  o'clock.  Nothing  has  been  said  about  it  for  the  last 
few  days,  and  therefore  we  wish  to  make  sure  that  there  is 
no  mistake." 

"  At  a  quarter  past  twelve,  Jerry,"  corrected  Dilke.  "  The 
fellows  could  not  be  down  at  Hanger's  Cliffs  before  a  quarter 
past  twelve." 

"  A  quarter  past  then,"  said  Taunton.  "  You  will  be  there, 
I  suppose,  Temple,  at  that  time  ?  " 

Temple  coloured  crimson,  but  he  made  no  answer.  Pre- 
sently Wright  spoke  for  him.  "  I  don't  know  what  Temple 
may  mean  to  do,  but  I  must  say  I  think  things  have  greatly 
altered  since  this  match  was  talked  of " 

"  Things  altered,"  repeated  Dilke  ;  "  you  mean,  I  suppose, 
that  this  Hawley  prize  was  not  announced  then.  I  don't 
see " 


A  Strange  Discovery.  \  8 1 

"Nor  do  I  see,"  broke  in  Temple,  "what  you  have  to  do 
with  the  matter,  Dilke.  Graves,  it  may  be  true  that  I  am 
unwilling  to  shoot  the  match  for  reasons  of  my  own " 

"  Reasons  of  your  own  ! "  cried  Rawes.    "  What  reasons  ?  " 

"  It  is  no  concern  ^f  yours  what  my  reasons  may  be," 
answered  Temple  hotly.  "It  is  enough  that  they  have 
nothing  whatever  to  do  with  this  Hawley  prize." 

"  Oh,  they  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  Hawley  prize,"  re- 
peated Rawes.  "  Well,  then,  your  change  is  rather  difficult 
to  explain.  You  borrowed  Harry  Wilder's  pistols  only  yester- 
day, you  know —  " 

Temple  started.  "  How  do  you  know  that  ?  "  he  asked 
hastily. 

"  I  saw  them,"  answered  Rawes  ;  "  that  is,  I  saw  the  pistol- 
case  in  Wilder's  hand,  when  you  went  up  to  speak  to  him. 
I  suppose  you  arranged  with  him  to  bring  them  to  Hanger's 
Cliffs  at  twelve  to-day.  You  don't  mean  to  deny  that  ?  " 

Temple  was  silent. 

"  I  see — you  can't  deny  it.  Well,  what  can  have  happened 
since  six  o'clock  yesterday  evening,  to  change  your  mind, 
except  hearing  of  this  Hawley  prize  ?  " 

Temple  still  made  no  answer.  His  embarrassment  was  so 
evident  and  so  distressing,  that  none  of  his  friends  knew  how 
to  interfere  in  his  behalf.  What  he  might  ultimately  have 
said  can  only  be  conjectured ;  for  at  this  moment  the 
Doctor,  who  was  fully  a  quarter  of  an  hour  behind  his  time 
(a  most  rare  circumstance  with  him),  entered  the  room,  and 
going  to  the  head  of  the  table,  knelt  down  to  read  prayers. 
The  boys  saw  in  a  moment  that  something  unusual  had  taken 
place.  His  manner  was  constrained  and  abrupt,  a  strange 


1 82  Who  did  it? 

contrast  to  his  ordinary  calm  and  sell-possessed  demeanour ; 
and  his  features  expressed  not  only  perplexity,  but  anger. 
He  had  no  sooner  risen  from  his  knees,  than  he  called  to  the 
boys  and  servants  assembled  to  keep  their  places. 

"  I  have  a  very  strange  and  unpleasant  communication  to 
make  to  you,"  he  began.  "  An  outrage  was  committed  last 
night,  which  will  necessitate  the  most  careful  inquiry.  I  don't 
know  whether  any  of  you  have  been  told  anything  about  it." 
He  glanced  from  face  to  face  as  he  spoke,  but  apparently  he 
could  read  nothing  there  but  surprise,  and  he  went  on. 

"  It  would  appear  that  none  of  you  have  heard  anything, 
and  I  must  tell  you.  You  will  all  be  as  sorry,  I  think,  as  I 
was,  to  learn  that  Captain  Gurdon's  blood-hound,  Neptune,  was 
found  this  morning  lying  dead  on  the  turf  outside  the  court- 
yard wall.  He  had  been  shot  through  the  heart.  Captain 
Gurdon  himself  is  absent,  but  I  have  written  to  him." 

There  was  a  cry  of  astonishment  and  distress,  followed  by  a 
dead  silence.  Presently  the  Doctor  spoke  again.  "  The  dis- 
covery was  made  early  this  morning  by  some  one  who 
chanced  to  be  walking  that  way,  and  he  immediately  informed 
both  myself  and  Baines  of  the  fact.  Baines  and  another 
constable  have  been  making  a  hasty  examination  of  the  spot 
where  this  occurred.  What  they  tell  me  makes  matters  a 
good  deal  worse.  They  say  the  act  must  have  been  committed 
by  some  inmate  of  this  house." 

He  paused  again,  hoping  that  some  one  would  now  offer 
an  explanation  of  the  affair.  But  the  boys  only  looked  from 
one  to  another  with  faces  of  bewilderment  and  dismay ;  and 
he  began  anew  for  the  third  time. 

"  If  the  constables  are  right  in  their  conjecture,  and  the 


A  Strange  Discovery.  183 

person  who  did  this  is  present  in  this  room,  I  entreat  him  to 
come  forward  and  honestly  confess  the  truth.  I  shall  be 
willing  to  hear  anything  that  may  be  said  in  explanation  or 
extenuation.  It  will  be  far  less  painful  that  the  offender  should 
be  brought  to  light  by  his  own  voluntary  admission,  than  by 
the  agency  of  the  law." 

He  once  more  paused,  but  still  no  one  spoke. 

"  I  am  sorry  the  culprit,  whoever  he  may  be,"  he  resumed, 
"  has  not  the   manliness  to  make  an  avowal.      Well,  then, 
there  is  nothing  for  it,  but  a  minute  and  searching  inquiry. 
Baines  and  Mr  Hepburn  are  still  engaged  in  their  investi- 
gations ;   but  I  will  tell  you  what  is   known  so  far.      The 
dog,  it  appears,  was  let  loose  last  night,  soon  after  the  storm 
began.     Thunder  and  lightning  cause  him  to  howl  so  loudly, 
that  he  would  have  disturbed  every  one's  rest.     Therefore, 
Cobbe  always  untied  him  when  a  storm  was  coming  on ;  when 
he  would  hide  himself  in  some  dark  nook  where  he  could  not 
see  the  lightning.     But  Cobbe  only  let  him  into  the  court- 
yard, and  his  body  was  found  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall. 
How  did  he  get  out  there  ?    There  are  two  gates  as  you  know 
in  the  wall.     Both  are  locked  regularly  every  evening  at  nine 
o'clock,  and  the  key  is  brought  to  me.    They  were  certainly 
so  locked  last  night.    Mr  Knyvett's  carriage  did  not  drive  off 
till  nearly  nine.     I  went  out  to  see  him  off,  and  the  keys 
were  brought  to  me  before  I  re-entered  the  house.   I  put  them 
in  my  pocket  and  took  them  up  into  my  room,  when  I  went 
to  bed.     No  one  could  have  got  possession  of  them.    The 
locks  have  been  examined.     They  have  been  neither  forced 
nor  tampered  with.     How  did  the  dog  get  out  ?    The  most 
natural  conjecture  is  that  some  one  has  a  duplicate  key  to  the 


1 84  Who  did  iff 

gate,  and  it  must  be  some  one  whom  the  dog  knew, 
or  he  would  have  flown  at  him  instantly.  This  he  certainly 
did  not  do,  or  the  noise  of  the  struggle  must  have  been  heard. 
Has  any  one  such  a  key,  or  can  any  one,  I  ask  once  more, 
give  any  explanation  of  this  affair  ? 

"Stop,  Fred,"  whispered  Burton,  drawing  Cressingham 
back,  as  he  saw  he  was  on  the  point  of  saying  something. 
"  Think  a  minute  before  you  speak." 

"  Surely,  Clem,  we  ought  to  say  what  we  know,"  answered 
Cressingham,  in  the  same  guarded  tone  ;  "  there  can't  be  any 
reasonable  doubt  how  poor  old  Neptune  got  out.  He  must 
have  followed  Temple  out  through  that  narrow  passage  you 
told  me  of.  You  remember  what  Temple  said  to  Cobbe? 
He  had  been  out  and  he  wanted  to  go  out  again,  and  he  would 
go  out." 

"  I  remember  quite  well,  but  we  don't  know  that  he  did  go 
out  again,  and  Nep  could  not  have  followed  him  out  before 
we  went  to  bed,  because  he  wasn't  untied  until  the  lightning 
began,  which  was  long  afterwards." 

"  We  needn't  say  anything  about  Temple,"  returned  Cres- 
singham. "  We  need  only  tell  the  Doctor  that  there  is  a 
passage  by  which  poor  old  Nep  could  have  got  out." 

"That  would  make  matters  no  better.  Nep  must  have 
followed  some  one  out.  He  couldn't  open  the  trap.  Besides 
that  we  should  have  to  explain  to  the  Doctor  how  we  dis- 
covered the  existence  of  the  trap,  and  that  would  involve 
Temple  in  a  tremendous  row.  I  don't  say  we  oughtn't  to 
speak  ultimately  if  it  should  be  found  necessary,  but  you 
see " 

"I  see  that  you  are  a  very  generous  fellow,  Clem " 


A  Strange  Discovery.  185 

"  Hush,  pray,  don't  say  that,"  said  Burton,  in  a  tone  of  great 
distress.  "  I  only  want  to  be  just." 

"  Well,  any  way  I  won't  say  anything  now,"  rejoined 
Cressingham.  "  To  be  sure  one  could  speak  at  any  time,  and 
this  matter  may  be  found  out  in  a  different  way.  Ah !  and 
here  comes  Hepburn,  who  looks  as  if  he  had  found  out 
something,  and  so  does  old  Baines." 

The  headmaster  seemed  to  be  of  the  same  mind.  "  Have 
you  discovered  anything,  Mr  Hepburn,"  he  said,  "  that  will 
clear  up  this  mysterious  business  ?  " 

"Well,  sir,  we  are  of  opinion  that  a  clue  has  now  been 
found.  Everything,  I  ought  to  say,  goes  to  prove  that  some 
one  from  this  house  was  either  the  direct  perpetrator  of  this 
act,  or  was  an  accomplice  in  it.  There  are  footprints  which 
show  that  some  one  crossed  the  court-yard  after  the  rain  began, 
and  before  it  had  ceased ;  but  the  heavy  down-pour  has 
washed  them  out  of  all  shape.  There  are  marks  of  dirt  on 
the  wall  of  the  house  in  one  place,  as  though  some  one  had 
scrambled  through  a  window.  One  bar  in  this  window  is 
found  to  be  loose,  so  that  any  one  lifting  it  up,  and  pushing  it 
on  one  side,  could  enter  the  house  through  it." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it,  Mr  Hepburn ;  and  still  more  sorry 
to  tell  you  that  I  have  put  the  question  we  agreed  upon  to 
the  boys  and  servants,  and  have  had  no  response  to  it.  But 
you  said  you  had  found  some  clue.  Let  us  hear  what  it  is." 

"  We  have  been  examining  the  body  of  the  dog,  sir.  The 
bullet  with  which  he  was  killed  went  right  through  the  heart, 
but  it  isn't  anywhere  to  be  found.  We  further  think  that 
there  must  have  been  something  of  a  struggle  before  he  was 
shot.  A  piece  of  cloth,  a  scrap  apparently  of  some  one's 


1 86  Who  did  it? 

trousers,  was  found  in  his  mouth.  Robbins,  the  school  tailor, 
has  now  been  sent  for  to  examine  this.  He  says  it  comes  from 
a  roll  of  stuff,  which  he  bought  in  the  spring  of  last  year  from 
a  foreign  house,  and  is  different,  in  some  respects,  from  any 
other  roll  in  his  shop.  He  says  that  he  made  several  pairs  of 
trousers  from  it  for  boys  in  this  school — indeed  he  has  never 
made  trousers  from  it  for  any  one  except  them." 

"  I  was  afraid  so,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  in  a  tone  of  great 
distress.  "  Boys,  will  not  the  offender  speak  now  ?  " 

He  looked  once  more  appealingly  into  the  faces  before 
him.  Many  of  them  expressed  astonishment,  perplexity,  and 
alarm.  Still  no  one  spoke,  and  he  signed  to  Mr  Hepburn  to 
go  on. 

"  By  an  examination  of  his  books  Robbins  is  able  to  give 
a  list  of  those  for  whom  the  trousers  were  made.  I  have  it 
here.  Several  of  the  boys  named  have  left  the  school.  Those 
remaining  are  five  in  number.  Cressingham,  Barton,  Field, 
Graves,  and  Temple." 

"  Let  those  five  boys  stand  forward,"  said  the  Doctor. 
"  Mind,"  he  added,  "  the  questions  which  I  am  going  to  ask 
you  are  not  put  because  any  one  of  you  in  particular  is  sus- 
pected of  this  outrage,  but  because  the  trousers  must  have 
belonged  to  one  of  you.  Cressingham,  you  are  the  first  in 
alphabetical  order.  Did  you  leave  this  house  at  any  time 
last  night,  and  were  you  in  any  way  concerned  in  this  busi- 
ness?" 

"  I  did  not  leave  the  house,  sir,"  said  Cressingham,  "  and 
was  not  in  any  way  concerned  in  it." 

"  Good.     Darton,  I  ask  you  the  same  two  questions  ?  " 

Darton,  a  boy  in  the  third  class,  came  forward,  looking  very 


A  Strange  Discovery.  187 

confused  and  abashed  at  being  brought  into  notice,  but  he 
answered  in  very  nearly  the  same  words  which  Cressingham 
had  used.  So  did  Field,  of  whom  the  inquiry  was  next  made. 

"  Graves,  I  see,  comes  next,"  observed  the  Doctor,  con- 
sulting his  list.  "  I  put  the  same  questions  to  you,  Graves? " 

Graves  made  no  response. 

"Why  don't  you  speak,  Graves?"  said  the  headmaster 
after  a  pause.  "  You  surely  heard  me.  Did  you  leave  the 
house  last  night,  and  were  you  in  any  way  concerned  in  this 
affair?" 

"  I  would  rather  not  say  anything,  sir." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  should  be  required  to  answer,  sir. 
Nothing  has  been  alleged  that  attaches  suspicion  to  me." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you.  There  is  the  same  reason  for 
asking  you  as  for  asking  the  others,  who  have  answered 
plainly  enough.  I  will,  however,  finish  my  inquiries  before 
returning  to  you.  Temple,  you  are  the  last  of  the  five.  What 
is  your  reply  to  my  questions  ?  " 

"I  hope  you  will  excuse  my  not  answering,  sir,"  said 
Temple. 

"Indeed,  I  cannot  excuse  it,  Temple,  or  understand  it 
either.  Why  cannot  you  two  boys,  Graves  and  Temple,  why 
cannot  you  answer  two  simple  questions,  if — as  I  still  hope — 
you  are  innocent?" 

"  I  would  rather  not  say  anything,  sir." 

"  That  is  what  Graves  said !  I  cannot  be  satisfied  with 
either  of  you.  A  further  examination  must  be  made,  so  far 
as  you  two  are  concerned.  Mr  Hepburn,  will  you  be  good 
enough  to  go  upstairs,  and  request  Mrs  Edwards  to  compare 


1 88  Who  did  it? 

carefully  the  lists  of  clothes  brought  here  by  Graves  and 
Temple,  noting  particularly  whether  all  the  pairs  of  trousers 
belonging  to  them  are  to  be  found ;  and  if  they  are,  whether 
a  piece  has  been  torn  away  from  the  leg  of  any  one  of  them. 
Meanwhile,  Bartholomew,  do  you,  with  Cobbe's  help,  search 
the  bureaus  belonging  to  Graves  and  Temple." 

"  I  protest  against  my  bureau  being  searched,  sir,"  remon- 
strated Graves.  "  I  don't  think  that  ought  to  be  done,  unless 
some  ground  of  suspicion  can  be  alleged  against  me." 

"  Again,  I  can't  agree  with  you,  Graves.  I  don't  understand 
what  reason  you  can  have  for  objecting." 

"  The  reason  is  plain  enough,  sir,"  said  Baines,  holding  up 
a  mahogany  case,  which  he  had  taken  from  a  drawer  in  the 
bureau,  and  opening  it.  "Here  are  a  brace  of  pistols,  a 
powder-flask,  and  a  bag  of  bullets." 

"  They  have  never  been  used  for  a  long  time,"  exclaimed 
Taunton.  "If  you  examine  them  you  will  find  that  to 
be  so." 

Baines  took  his  pocket-handkerchief,  and  with  the  help  of 
the  ramrod,  thrust  it  down  the  barrels  of  the  two  pistols,  one 
after  another. 

"  The  pistols  are  clean  enough  no  doubt,  sir,"  he  said,  pre- 
sently, "  but  they  might  have  been  fired  and  cleaned  after- 
wards." 

"  Well,  Graves,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  what  have  you  to  say  to 
this  ?  You  cannot  but  be  aware  that  your  possession  of  these 
pistols  is  a  suspicious  circumstance." 

"  I  can't  help  it,  if  it  is,"  returned  Graves,  doggedly.  "  I 
don't  see  why  it  should  be.  It  doesn't  follow  because  I  have 
a  brace  of  pistols  of  my  own,  that  I  shot  a  dog  with  them." 


"THE   REASON    IS   PLAIN   ENOUGH. 


Page  188. 


A  Strange  Discovery.  1 89 

"  Where  did  you  get  these  pistols  from  ?  " 

"  From  home.     I  bought  them  of  a  friend." 

"  Indeed,  I  shall  send  them  at  once  to  your  guardian,  with 
a  letter  informing  him  of  what  has  taken  place  here.  What 
further  may  be  done  in  your  case  is  a  matter  for  consideration. 
Well,  Mr  Hepburn,"  he  added,  as  the  door  opened,  and  the 
usher  re-entered.  "Have  Graves's  and  Temple's  clothes  been 
compared  with  their  lists  and  found  correct." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  not,  sir.  One  pair  of  Graves's  trousers 
has  a  piece  torn  out  of  the  leg ;  and  one  pair  of  Temple's  is 
missing." 

Indeed,  Graves,  what  do  you  say  to  this  ? 

"  I  am  distrusted,  I  shall  say  no  more,  sir,"  replied  Graves. 

"You  are  most  unwise.  Temple,  what  is  your  explanation  ? 
Can  you  produce  the  missing  trousers,  or  explain  what  has 
become  of  them  ?" 

All  eyes  were  turned  upon  Temple.  His  restless  uneasi- 
ness, so  singular  a  contrast  to  Graves's  dogged  coolness,  struck 
every  one  present.  The  Doctor  had  to  repeat  his  question, 
before  he  replied.  Then  he  said,  "  I  have  lost  them." 

"  Lost  them  ?  when,  and  how  ?  " 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  I  would  rather  not  say." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that.  You  heard  me  tell  Graves  just 
now,  that  his  possession  of  the  pistols,  I  may  add  now  the 
condition  of  his  trousers,  laid  him  open  to  a  certain  amount 
of  suspicion.  The  loss  of  your  trousers,  I  cannot  but  say,  has 
an  equally  suspicious  appearance." 

Temple  hung  his  head,  but  said  nothing. 

"Go  on  with  your  search,  Baines,"  said  the  headmaster, 
"you  have  not  examined  Mr  Temple's  bureau." 


190  Who  did  iff 

"Oh,  if  you  please,  sir,"  cried  Temple,  "do  not  search  my 
bureau!" 

"Why  not,  Temple?  This  is  really  very  strange.  One 
would  think  that  you  and  Graves  had  agreed  beforehand  to 
make  the  same  answers  and  requests." 

"  I  would  rather  not  say,  sir;  but  pray,  don't !" 

"  I  cannot  agree  to  that.     Go  on,  Baines." 

The  constable  obeyed ;  and  presently  from  the  very  bottom 
of  the  bureau  he  drew  forth  a  bundle  of  clothes ;  tied  up  in  a 
large  handkerchief.  "  Ah,"  he  cried,  "  a  lot  of  clothes  !  I'll 
pound  it,  the  trousers  are  among  them !  They  are  not  though," 
he  added,  a  minute  or  two  afterwards  as  he  untied  the  hand- 
kerchief, and  took  up  the  contents  one  after  another.  "  Why, 
these  are  women's  clothes  !  Here  is  a  shawl,  an  old  petti- 
coat and  gown,  and  a  gipsy's  straw  bonnet ! " 

All  present  stared  in  amazement  at  these  strange  habiliments, 
which,  on  a  less  serious  occasion,  would  have  provoked  a 
burst  of  merriment.  Presently  Mr  Hepburn  stepped  up  and 
scrutinised  them  closely.  "  I  am  sure  I  have  seen  these 
articles,"  he  said,  "  and  that  not  very  long  ago,  though  I  can't 
think  where  it  was.  Stop !  "  he  added  a  minute  afterwards, 
"  it  was  in  the  court-yard  here,  about  a  fortnight  ago.  They 
were  worn  by  that  gipsy  girl,  who  escaped,  and  whom  the  con- 
stables have  never  been  able  to  find.  Yes,  I  remember  the 
bonnet  and  that  stain  on  the  shawl,  as  clearly  as  possible. 
How  did  you  come  in  possession  of  these  clothes,  Temple  ?  " 

"  You  had  better  tell  the  truth,  Temple,"  said  the  Doctor. 
"  Whatever  you  may  have  done,  it  will  be  your  wisest  course 
lo  own  it." 

"  I  will,  sir,"  said   Temple   in   a   low  voice.     "  One  day, 


A  Strange  Discovery.  191 

about  a  fortnight  ago,  I  had  a  dispute  with  one  of  the  other 
boys,  who  knew  that  I  had  no  money,  as  to  whether  I  could 
produce  half-a-crown  before  supper  time  that  evening.  It  was 
the  day  on  which  Captain  Gurdon  and  Mr  Wilkes  took  the 
first-class  to  Hawley  Manor.  I  could  think  of  no  other  way 
of  getting  the  money,  but  that  of  dressing  myself  up  as  a 
beggar,  and  persuading  Captain  Gurdon  and  the  others  to 
give  it  niCi  *•  I  borrowed  a  lot  of  clothes,  and  met  them  in 
Hawley  Wood.  They  were  imposed  upon,  and  did  give  me 
a  lot  of  silver,  believing  that  I  was  really  a  gipsy  girl.  I  re- 
turned the  money  a  day  or  two  afterwards  dressed  in  the  same 
disguise.  It  was  then  that  Mr  Hephurn  saw  me." 

"  You  did  a  very  foolish  thing,  Temple,  and  one  for  which, 
of  course,  you  must  be  punished,  though  the  offence  is 
altogether  of  a  different  character  from  the  outrage  committed 
last  night.  From  whom  did  you  get  these  clothes  ?  " 

"  From  an  old  woman  who  lives  a  little  way  down  the  lane 
— Mrs  Meggott  she  is  called.  I  had  bought  one  or  two 
things  of  her  before,"  answered  Temple. 

"  Do  you  know  the  woman  of  whom  Mr  Temple  speaks, 
Bartholomew  ?  "  said  the  Doctor,  turning  to  Baines. 

"  Yes,  [I  know  her,"  returned  Baines  dryly,  "  though  her 
acquaintance  ain't  no  credit  to  nobody.  She  has  taken  herself 
off  now — no  one  knows  where.  She  has  been  gone  yesterday 
was  a  week.  She  was  afraid,  I  judge,  of  being  took  before 
Squire  Wolford,  or  Colonel  Wilder,  or  your  reverence,  for 
being  concerned  in  a  robbery  of  some  clothes  from  farmer 
Wall's  drying  ground." 

"  Well,  Temple,  I  am  sorry  you  should  have  allowed 
yourself  to  have  any  dealings  with  such  a  person.  But  all 


192  Who  did  it  1 

this  does  not  explain  the  loss  of  your  trousers.  What  have 
you  to  say  about  that  ?  " 

Temple  coloured  painfully,  but  he  said  nothing. 

"  Well,  boys,"  resumed  the  Doctor,  after  the  pause  of  a 
minute  or  two,  "  I  am  sorry  this  matter  has  not  been  cleared 
up.  There  are  not,  to  my  mind,  sufficient  grounds  for 
directly  charging  either  Graves  or  Temple  with  it,  but  there 
are  very  serious  grounds  for  suspicion  against  both.  I  hope 
they  may  be  proved  innocent  hereafter.  Meanwhile,  I  must 
not  forget  that  two  things  have  come  incidentally  to  light 
in  this  inquiry,  which  cannot  be  passed  over — first  of  all, 
Graves's  breach  of  the  rules  in  bringing  the  pistols  to  school ; 
and  secondly,  Temple's  disguising  himself  as  he  confesses  to 
have  done,  and  going  out  of  bounds.  These  are  matters 
requiring  severe  notice.  Mr  Hepburn,  you  will  place  a  black 
cross  against  the  names  of  Graves  and  Temple.  Of  course, 
if  it  should  hereafter  be  proved  that  either  they  or  any  of 
their  schoolfellows  are  implicated  in  the  offence  committed 
last  night,  it  will  be  a  much  more  serious  affair.  Now,  boys, 
you  can  go  into  the  playground.  This  morning  has  been 
lost,  but  we  will  resume  work  as  usual  this  afternoon." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  PISTOL. 

THE  boys  left  the  schoolroom  much  more  quietly  than  was 
their  ordinary  habit,  and  when  they  had  reached  the  play- 
ground, gathered  together  in  small  groups,  too  deeply  in- 
terested in  the  extraordinary  matters  which  had  been  brought 
before  their  notice  to  set  on  foot  any  games.  The  head- 
master retired  to  his  study,  buried  in  thought.  Mr  Hepburn 
would  have  followed,  but  as  he  was  leaving  the  deserted 
schoolroom,  Baines  touched  his  arm,  and  begged  him  to 
remain. 

Mr  Hepburn  started.  He  too  had  been  lost  in  thought. 
"  What  is  it,  Baines  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  should  like  a  word,  private,  with  you,  sir.  The 
Doctor  didn't  tell  the  young  gentlemen  as  'twas  you  as  found 
the  dog—  " 

"  No,  we  agreed  it  would  be  better  not  to  mention  it.  It 
would  probably  put  the  person  who  did  this  on  his  guard 
against  me." 

"Just  so,  sir.  I  thought  perhaps,  too,  you  might  have 
found  the  bullet—  " 

"No,  I  didn't.  But  do  you  think  that  a  matter  of  much 
consequence  ?  " 

N 


194  Who  did  it? 

"  Well,  this  finding  of  pistols  in  Mr  Graves's  possession —  ' 
"  Mr  Graves,"  repeated  the  usher  quickly.     "  Do  you  think, 
then,  that  he  may  have  done  it  ?  " 

"  May  have  done  it,  sir  !  Why,  to  be  sure  he  may.  I  don't 
know  that  a  man  can  say  at  present  that  'tis  clear  who  did  it; 
but  certainly  things  look  very  black  so  far  as  he  is  concerned. 
What  with  the  tear  on  his  trousers  and  the  pistols  in  his  cup- 
board, the  case  is  pretty  strong.  If  the  bullet  should  turn  up 
and  be  found  to  fit  his  pistols,  he'd  hardly  get  off  before  a 
jury.  I  don't  think  much  of  his  pistols  being  clean — pistols 
is  easy  cleaned." 

"  You  don't  think  then  that  Mr  Temple " 

"Mr  Temple,  sir?  He  seems  a  strange  sort  of  young 
gentleman,  and  up  to  any  kind  of  mischief.  And  it's  odd 
about  his  trousers  ;  and,  to  be  sure,  he  wouldn't  say  any  more 
than  Mr  Graves,  that  he  didn't  go  out  last  night ;  but  there's 
no  positive  evidence  against  him  as  there  is  against  t'other. 
Mayhap  they  two  were  out  larking  together,  and  they've 
agreed  to  keep  it  dark.  Do  you  know  if  they  are  great  cronies, 
Mr  Hepburn?" 

"  Well,  no,  I  believe  not,"  said  the  usher.  "  I  have  reason 
to  believe  that  they  dislike  one  another.  But,  of  course,  it  is 
possible  that  they  may  have  gone  out  together  for  some  pur- 
pose or  other.  But  if  you  attach  so  much  weight  to  finding 
this  bullet,  why  don't  you  go  out  again  and  make  another 
search  for  it  ?  I  have  told  you  all  I  knew.  I  thought  there 
had  been  a  wreck  in  the  bay,  and  went  out  very  early  this 
morning  to  the  top  of  the  knoll,  which  commands  a  view  of 
the  sea.  The  firstt  hing  I  saw,  as  I  crossed  the  shrubbery, 
was  the  body  of  the  dog.  I  turned  it  over  and  saw  that  it  had 


The  Pistol.  .    195 

been  shot  through  the  heart.  The  ball  seemed  to  have  passed 
through  it — indeed  there  was  the  mark  on  both  sides  of  the 
chest." 

"  I  heard  the  Doctor  say  the  dog  had  been  shot  through  the 
heart,  sir ;  but  if  so,  it  couldn't  have  run  any  distance.  The 
bullet  must  be  in  the  ground  near  the  spot  where  it  fell." 

"  I  can't  answer  for  that.  But  as  I  said  before,  if  you  think 
the  matter  to  be  of  importance,  why  don't  you  go  out  and 
examine  the  place.  I'll  go  with  you." 

"  I  thought  the  young  gentlemen  might  be  about,  or  I  should 
have  asked  you  to  go.  Better  make  the  examination  as  private 
as  possible." 

"There  is  no  fear  of  the  boys  interrupting  you,  Baines. 
They  are  in  the  playground,  quite  out  of  sight  of  the  shrubbery. 
There  is  no  fear  of  anyone  interrupting  us.  We  had  better 
go  at  once." 

They  went  out  accordingly.  The  grounds  immediately  sur- 
rounding Holmwood  Priory  have  been  already  described.  On 
three  sides  of  the  house  there  was  a  belt  of  trees  and  shrubs. 
In  some  places  this  approached  close  to  the  outer  wall,  hardly 
allowing  a  passage  under  it.  At  the  point  of  the  grounds 
which  was  furthest  from  the  sea,  nothing  could  be  seen  of 
the  surrounding  country  on  account  of  the  density  of  the 
foliage. 

"This  was  the  spot  where  I  found  the  body,"  said  Mr 
Hepburn,  pointing  to  a  patch  of  turf  which  was  still  stained 
with  poor  Neptune's  blood.  "  You  see  it  is  a  slight  slope. 
If  the  bullet  passed  through  the  dog's  heart,  it  would  go  into 
the  ground  just  about  there,  and  as  the  ground  was  very  soft, 
it  would  penetrate  pretty  deeply." 


1 96  Who  did  it? 

"  So  it  would,  sir,"  returned  Baines ;  "  but  now  I  see  the 
place,  I  can  perceive  that  the  dog  wasn't  killed  where  you 
found  him  lying.  Look  here,  sir,  at  these  footmarks.  Some 
one  came  up  through  the  wood  there.  There  may  have  been 
one,  or  there  may  have  been  more.  The  rains  have  washed 
the  marks  about  too  much  for  any  one  to  feel  sure  about  that. 
But  whoever  it  was — he,  or  they,  came  along  under  that  bank 
up  to  here.  Here  it  was  that  the  dog  made  his  spring,  and 
he  was  dragged  along,  alive  or  dead,  to  this  place.  Look  at 
those  scratches  in  the  ground.  They  were  made  by  his 
claws,  as  he  was  lugged  along.  There's  the  place  where  to 
look  for  the  bullet.  But  the  ground  is  so  swampy  and  over- 
grown with  weeds  that  one  might  pretty  nearly  as  well  look 
for  a  needle  in  a  hayloft !  Stay,  though.  What's  that,  sir  ?  " 
He  pointed,  as  he  spoke,  to  a  spot  a  few  feet  off,  where  some- 
thing glittering  in  the  sunshine  was  to  be  discerned  in  the 
midst  of  a  large  patch  of  weeds.  "  It's  not  the  bullet,  sir,"  he 
added  a  moment  afterwards,  "  but  it's  something  more  to  the 
purpose.  It's  a  pistol.  I'll  wager  it,  this  is  the  one  that  did 
the  trick !  " 

"  A  pistol,"  repeated  Mr  Hepburn,  "  that  is  important  in- 
deed. The  first  thing,  of  course,  will  be  to  ascertain  whether 
it  has  recently  been  discharged." 

Baines  again  took  out  his  pocket  handkerchief,  and  with 
the  help  this  time  of  a  small  twig  which  he  cut,  thrust  it  down 
the  barrel.  It  came  out  black  with  powder.  There  was  no 
doubt  that  the  pistol  had  been  recently  fired. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  this  pistol  before,  sir  ? "  asked  Baines, 
"  or  can  you  guess  to  whom  it  belongs  ?  I  have  never  seen 
it,  I  am  sure,  nor  one  like  it," 


The  Pistol  197 

Mr  Hepburn  took  the  pistol  and  turned  it  carefully  over. 
"  It  is  a  valuable  pistol  I  should  think,"  he  said,  "  and  of 
foreign  workmanship.  Look  at  those  carvings  and  silver 
mountings,  they  have  something  of  an  Oriental  look  about 
them ;  and  see  those  letters,  can  you  make  them  out  ?  " 

"  Not  very  plain,  sir,"  said  the  constable.  "  There's  three 
of  them.  The  first  is  an  M,  I  think." 

"  You  are  right,  Baines.  The  first  is  an  M,  so  is  the  second, 
and  the  third  is  either  a  C  or  a  G."  He  took  his  pocket- 
handkerchief  and  rubbed  the  letters.  "  Yes,  it  is  a  G,"  he 
added  presently.  "  They  are  old  English  characters  ;  it  is 
certainly  a  G.  '  M.M.G.'  Who  can  that  stand  for  ?  " 

"  G,  sir  ?  mayn't  that  be  Graves  ?  Do  you  happen  to  know 
what  his  Christian  name  is,  sir  ?  " 

"  He  has  only  one  Christian  name,  and  that  is  Stephen," 
replied  the  usher. 

"But  he  may  have  some  relation  whose  Christian  name 
begins  with  M,"  urged  Baines. 

"  I  don't  think  he  has  any  relations,  blood  relations  that  is, 
except  his  sister,"  said  Mr  Hepburn.  "  His  father's  name  I 
chance  to  know  was  the  same  as  his  own.  Still,  however, 
inquiries  should  be  made  about  that." 

"  Of  course,  sir.  Well,  the  first  thing  will  be  to  ascertain 
to  whom  this  pistol  belongs,  and  whether  it's  owner  lent  it  to 
any  of  the  Doctor's  young  gentlemen." 

"  You  feel  sure  it  was  fired  by  one  of  the  young  gentle- 
men ?  "  asked  the  usher. 

"  We  have  gone  through  that  already,  sir,"  returned  Baines, 
a  little  impatiently.  "  It  is  quite  certain  that  some  one  left 
the  house  late  last  night  and  returned  to  it.  The  footmarks 
shew  that,  and  the  dirt  on  the  window  sill.  Then  the  dog 


198  Who  did  it? 

must  have  been  let  through  the  gate,  and  by  some  one  he 
knew — he  was  either  let  through,  or  he  pushed  through  after 
him.  The  dog  couldn't  have  got  here  no  other  way.  Then 
the  dog  seized  some  one ;  the  scrap  of  cloth  between  his  teeth 
proves  that.  Well,  I  should  have  said  myself  it  wasn't  the 
Holmwood  young  gent,  but  the  tother  as  he  seized;  but  if 
Robbins  is  right,  as  I  suppose  he  is,  it  must  have  been  the 
Holmwood  gent.  I  suppose  the  dog  was  going  to  seize  the 
tother,  when  the  Holmwood  gent  interferes — strikes  him 
p'raps — and  the  dog  turns  on  him.  Then  comes  the  ques- 
tion, who  fired  the  shot  ?  It  might  have  been  either,  but  I 
think  'twas  the  Holmwood  gent.  For  why  ?  If  the  pistol  be- 
longed to  the  outsider,  to  be  sure  he'd  carry  it  away  with  him. 
But  if  it  belonged  to  one  of  your  young  gentlemen  he'd  be 
very  likely  to  hide  it  away,  because  next  day  there'd  be  pretty 
sure  to  be  a  search,  and  if  he  took  it  into  the  house,  it  would 
be  found  in  his  possession.  I  think  it's  tolerably  sure  to  have 
been  one  of  Dr  Thornton's  scollards  as  did  this." 

"  I  am  afraid  there  is  only  too  much  likelihood  in  what  you 
say,  Baines,  and  you  think  the  culprit  was,  most  probably, 
Mr  Graves,  do  you?" 

"  Humph.  I  did  think  so,  sir,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  ago, 
no  doubt,  and  if  the  mark  '  G '  on  this  pistol  stands  for  Graves, 
I  should  think  so  now.  Otherwise  the  finding  this  other 
pistol  alters  the  matter,  so  far  as  Mr  Graves  is  concerned.  If 
he  did  shoot  the  dog,  'twasn't  with  the  pistols  found  in  his 
desk,  you  see.  Still  there's  the  torn  trousers,  and  that  looks 
ugly.  It  seems  a  pretty  equal  suspicion  now  against  the  two 
young  gentlemen,  as  wouldn't  say  they  hadn't  been  out  last 
night." 


The  Pistol.  199 

"For  the  matter  of  that,"  rejoined  the  usher,  "I  know 
that  one  of  them,  Mr  Temple,  did  go  out  last  night,  and  was 
very  urgent  to  be  allowed  to  go  out  again." 

"  Indeed,  sir,"  said  the  constable.  "  That  is  important. 
How  do  you  know  that,  sir,  may  I  ask?" 

"  I  overheard  him  speaking  to  the  school  servant,  Thomas 
Cobbe,"  replied  Mr  Hepburn.  "  I  was  just  returning  from 
the  schoolroom  to  the  headmaster's  study,  and  Cobbe  was  on 
the  point  of  locking  the  door  for  the  night.  I  heard  him  say, 
'  I  can't  let  you  out  again,  Mr  Temple.  It's  as  much  as  my 
place  is  worth,'  or  something  of  the  kind." 

"Let  you  out  again— are  you  sure  he  said  that,  sir?" 

"  Yes,  I  have  questioned  Cobbe  about  it  this  morning.  He 
never  likes  to  say  anything  against  the  boys,  if  he  can  help  it. 
But  he  admitted  that  he  had  let  Temple  out,  or  rather  let  him 
in,  for  he  had  gone  out  before  the  yard  door  was  fastened, 
and  that  he  wanted  to  go  out  a  second  time,  but  Cobbe  would 
not  allow  it." 

"What  time  was  it  when  Cobbe  let  him  in?" 

"Just  before  prayers,  I  believe,  somewhere  about  half-past 
eight  o'clock." 

"  That's  no  good,  sir,"  said  the  constable.  "  This  was  done 
after  the  rain  began.  The  foot-marks  shew  that.  The  gravel 
was  too  dry  and  hard  to  have  left  any  mark  at  all,  until  the 
rain  came  on.  But  you  say  he  was  very  anxious  to  go  out 
again.  What  could  he  have  wanted  to  go  out  for?" 

"  Well,  I  have  my  suspicions  about  that,"  replied  the  usher. 
"Some  time  ago,  a  year  or  two  I  think — there  was  a  very 
serious  inquiry  on  which  Colonel  Wilder  insisted.  He  found 
that  his  son  had  been  playing  billiards  for  money,  and  it  was 


200  Who  did  it  ? 

thought  that  all  had  not  been  quite  fair.  It  transpired  that 
Temple  had  been  one  of  the  players.  It  was  always  a  puzzle 
how  he  had  contrived  to  go  to  and  from  the  billiard-room  which 
is  in  the  heart  of  the  town,  without  being  seen  by  any  one. 
It  was  suggested  that  he  might  have  got  out  at  night,  but  it 
could  not  be  proved.  This,  however,  looks  like  it." 

"  You  think  he  might  have  wanted  to  go  out  to  play 
billiards  with  young  Mr  Wilder  again,"  suggested  the  constable. 
"  But  I  think  that  can  hardly  have  been  so.  I  remember  the 
matter  of  which  you  speak,  and  the  Colonel  asked  us  to  keep 
an  eye  on  a  gentleman,  who  had  been  a  friend  of  his  son,  and 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  going  to  this  table,  and  we  always 
have  kept  our  eyes  open,  so  far  as  that  billiard-room  is  con- 
cerned. I  am  pretty  sure  that  neither  young  Mr  Wilder  nor 
Mr  Temple  have  ever  been  there  since  the  Colonel  spoke  to 
us.  Besides,  you  must  remember,  sir,  that  the  foot-marks 
shew,  that  whoever  went  out,  went  to  meet  some  person,  and 
that  don't  look  as  though  any  one  was  going  out  merely  to  play 
billiards;  still,  however,  the  circumstance  of  Mr  Temple's  want- 
ing to  go  out  so  late,  and  for  no  reason,  so  far  as  is  known — " 

"  No,"  said  Mr  Hepburn.  "  I  overheard  him  refuse  to  give 
Cobbe  any  reason  for  his  wanting  to  go  out,  and  Cobbc 
stated  as  much  to  me  this  morning.  But  we  can  send  for 
him  and  question  him  if  you  like  it." 

"  No,  sir,  best  not  do  that.  It  would  put  him  on  his  guard. 
You  see  the  first  thing  will  be  to  find  out  to  whom  this  pistol 
belongs.  We'll  first  try  to  make  out  whether  it's  an  old  pistol 
of  Mr  Graves's — it  may  be,  you  know.  He  has  a  lot  of  money 
I'm  told,  and  seems  to  be  fond  of  guns  and  pistols.  We'll 
send  it  down  to  our  mates  who  live  near  Wilworth — that's 


Tlie  Pistol.  201 

Mr  Graves's  home.  If  it's  his,  some  of  his  guardian's  keepers 
will  be  sure  to  know  it.  Then,  if  that  don't  do,  I'll  take  it  to 
Dolman,  the  gunsmith.  He  has  the  handling,  at  one  time  or 
another,  of  pretty  nearly  all  the  guns  and  pistols  in  this  neigh- 
bourhood. If  it  belongs  to  any  one  living  near  hereabouts, 
I'll  pound  it  he'll  know  who  it  is." 

"  But  you'll  not  tell  any  one  why  you  make  the  inquiry," 
suggested  Mr  Hepburn. 

"  I,  sir,"  said  Baines,  a  little  affronted.  "  I,  sir.  No.  I 
should  think  not — that  aint  our  way  of  going  to  work.  No, 
we'll  be  as  mute  as  mice ;  and  if  we  can't  find  out  anything 
about  it,  we'll  bring  the  pistol  back  to  you.  By-the-bye,  Mr 
Hepburn,  that  was  a  strange  business  about  Mr  Temple  and 
the  gipsy's  clothes,  wasn't  it  ?  It  is  no  wonder  that  we  couldn't 
find  out  what  had  become  of  the  gipsy  !  He  must  be  a  clever 
young  gentleman  that,  and  an  amusing  one,  too !  How  the 
old  Captain  will  laugh,  to  be  sure,  when  he  hears  about  it." 

"  Yes,"  assented  Mr  Hepburn,  stiffly,  "  that  is  just  one  of 
the  things  that  I  am  most  afraid  of.  Captain  Gurdon  has 
always  had  a  fancy  for  this  boy,  Temple ;  who  is  clever 
enough,  no  doubt,  though  his  cleverness  does  not  improve 
him  in  my  eyes.  I  fully  expect  that  the  Captain,  as  soon  as 
he  hears  of  this,  will  take  up  the  matter  in  his  favour  and 
declare  that  he  has  had  nothing  to  do  with  shooting  the  dog. 
Anything  he  hears,  he'll  tell  Temple,  and  so  put  him  on  his 
guard." 

"  That  won't  do,  sir,"  said  Baines,  "  we  had  better  for  the 
present  keep  this  discovery  of  the  pistol  to  our  two  selves. 
Well,  sir,  I'm  pretty  confident  we  shall  get  to  the  bottom  of 
this  matter,  and  that  before  very  long.  It  will  take  two  or 


202  Who  did  it  ? 

three  days,  maybe,  to  send  the  pistol  over  to  Wilworth  and 
get  an  answer ;  and  then  it  will  take  some  time  to  get  an 
answer  out  of  Dolman.  Some  one  must  leave  it  there  to 
be  cleaned,  and  see  whether  Dolman  recognises  it,  or  some- 
thing of  that  sort.  But  you  may  depend  upon  it  I'll  bring  it 
back  to  you  as  soon  as  possible.  And,  meantime,  I  think  we 
had  better  stop  all  further  inquiries,  and  let  it  seem  as  though 
the  thing  had  blown  over.  That  will  put  the  person  who  did 
it  off  his  guard.  I  shan't  come  up  here  again,  sir,  and  if  I 
have  anything  to  say  to  you,  I'll  send  you  a  line  through  the 
post  to  tell  you  where  to  meet  me." 

"  Very  good,  Baines,  if  I  have  anything  to  tell  you,  I'll  use 
the  same  mode  of  communication.  Now,  good-bye." 

They  parted.  The  constable  took  the  footpath  which  led 
through  the  wood  to  Walescliff,  while  Mr  Hepburn  turned 
towards  the  Priory  gate.  "  This  boy,  Temple,  did  it,  I  am 
convinced,"  he  muttered  to  himself;  "  he  did  it  himself,  or  he 
was  present  when  it  was  done.  Anyhow,  he  knows  all  about 
it.  The  only  thing  is — how  to  prove  it.  He  has  contrived 
to  baffle  inquiry  so  far,  and  the  coincidences  of  Graves  being 
possessed  of  a  brace  of  pistols,  and  the  rent  in  his  trousers, 
have  helped  him  to  do  so.  Well,  we  must  wait — wait  and 
watch.  Perhaps  Baines  may  find  out  the  owner  of  the  pistol, 
though  I  hardly  expect  it.  If  he  does  not,  we  must  keep  a 
sharp  eye  on  this  boy,  and  not  let  him  know  we  are  watching 
him.  If  we  could  only  keep  old  Gurdon  out  of  the  way, 
I  believe  we  could  manage  that  very  well;  but  1  am  afraid 
of  his  marring  everything.  And  here  he  comes,  I  declare," 
he  added  a  few  moments  afterwards,  as  a  gig  became  visible 
at  the  further  end  of  the  lane,  with  the  well-known  figure 


The  Pistol,  203 

of  Captain  Gurdon  seated  by  the  driver.  "  He  has  heard  of 
this  business,  and  has  come  back  post  haste  to  inquire  about 
it.  Well,  he  shall  not  inquire  of  me,  at  all  events  ! "  He 
vanished  through  the  gateway,  just  as  the  gig  turned  the 
corner  of  the  drive. 

Meanwhile  great  excitement  prevailed  in  the  playground, 
which  seemed  to  increase,  rather  than  diminish,  the  more  the 
question  was  discussed.  Graves,  preserving  his  customary 
coolness,  was  the  centre  of  one  of  the  largest  and  noisiest 
groups.  He  had  given  no  explanation  to  his  school-fellows 
of  his  refusal  to  answer  the  Doctor,  and  no  one  had  presumed 
to  question  him.  But  this  circumstance  tended  rather  to 
heighten  the  admiration  with  which  he  was  regarded.  In 
their  secret  hearts,  most  of  the  boys  believed  that  he  was  the 
person  who  had  shot  Neptune.  He  had  gone  out — so 
they  believed — at  an  early  hour  to  the  coach  office,  to  get  his 
pistols,  and  was  returning  with  them  when  Neptune,  who 
notoriously  disliked  him,  met  him  in  the  outer  yard  and 
sprang  upon  him.  Thereupon  Graves,  doing  exactly  what  he 
had  said  he  would  do  under  such  circumstances,  sent  a  bullet 
through  the  bloodhound's  chest,  and  then,  exerting  his  great 
strength,  pitched  the  body  over  the  wall.  It  was  a  daring 
feat  and  just  the  thing  to  attract  a  boy's  fancy.  The  feeling  was 
in  no  degree  lessened  by  the  conviction  they  entertained,  that 
he  would  say  nothing  on  the  subject  to  any  one,  and  further, 
that  he  would  put  any  one  down  who  tried  to  get  at  the  truth. 

"  Never  mind,  Steve,"  said  Taunton,  skilfully  avoiding  the 
forbidden  question,  "  they  can't  take  the  pistols  from  you. 
The  Doctor  can  only  send  them  to  Wilworth,  and  you 
will  have  them  again  at  the  beginning  of  the  holidays." 


2O4  WJw  did  it  ? 

"No,"  said  Graves;  "and  as  I  didn't  want  them  here, 
except  for  the  purpose  of  shooting  the  match  with  Temple, 
that  doesn't  much  signify." 

"And  the  black  cross  signifies  rather  less,  if  possible," 
observed  Rawes.  "  I  don't  suppose  you  care  twopence  about 
losing  this  precious  prize  of  theirs,  Stephen,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  should  lose  it,"  answered  Graves  quietly. 

"  Not  lose  it ! "  exclaimed  Rawes  in  surprise  ;  "  why,  they 
will  dock  you  a  hundred  marks,  and  you  were  already  behind 
Burton  on  the  register — were  ten  marks  behind  him,  I 
believe —  " 

"  Twelve,  one  of  the  juniors  told  me,"  interrupted  Graves. 

"Twelve.  Then  you  are  a  hundred  and  twelve  behind 
him  now.  You  don't  expect  to  gain  that  upon  him,  do 
you?" 

"  I  mean  to  try,  anyway,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Bravo  !  Steve,"  cried  Taunton,  "  that's  your  sort !  Never 
say  die.  You  don't  choose  to  be  beat.  All  right !  go  in  and 
win,  I  say." 

"No,  I  don't  choose  to  be  beat,"  said  Graves.  "What's 
more,  I  don't  choose  to  submit  to  injustice.  Burton  is 
Hepburn's  favourite.  He  wants  him  to  win,  and  he  knows 
that  for  the  last  fortnight  his  pet  has  been  losing  marks.  He 
has  taken  advantage  of  this  business  to  induce  the  Doctor  to 
strike  a  hundred  marks  off  my  score  and  Temple's,  so  as  to 
make  Burton  safe,  as  he  thinks.  I  knew  he  was  up  to  some- 
thing of  the  kind,  when  he  asked  that  question  of  the  Doctor 
yesterday.  He  meant  to  take  advantage  of  the  first  oppor- 
tunity of  playing  this  trick,  and  the  opportunity  has  come 
sooner  than  he  expected,  that's  all.  But  he  may  find  himself 


The  Pistol.  205 

mistaken  after  all."  He  walked  off,  as  he  spoke,  into  the 
schoolroom  ;  and,  seating  himself  at  his  bureau,  began  studying 
the  Homer  for  the  next  day's  lesson. 

Meanwhile  Temple  was  sitting  alone  in  a  retired  corner  of 
the  playground,  looking  very  depressed  and  unhappy.  It  was 
so  very  unusual  with  him  to  avoid  the  society  of  his  school- 
fellows, that  his  demeanour  only  excited  surprise  and  sympathy. 

"  He  looks  terribly  down  in  the  mouth,  George,"  said 
Winburne.  "  Let  us  go  and  comfort  him.  Anything  must  be 
better  for  him  than  to  sit  moping  there." 

The  two  boys  joined  their  friend  accordingly,  who  ac- 
knowledged their  presence  by  an  attempt  at  a  smile,  though  a 
very  lugubrious  one. 

"  Come,  Charlie,  old  boy,  don't  be  downhearted,"  began 
Winburne.  "  It's  a  bore  certainly  that  those  unlucky  clothes 
were  not  taken  back  to  Mother  Meggots  before,  or  burned. 
But  no  one  could  have  foreseen  what  was  going  to  happen. 
And  the  row  is  over  now,  at  all  events." 

"  And  your  trousers  are  sure  to  be  found,"  added  Wright- 
You  didn't  like  to  say  where  they  were ;  but  Baines  will  soon 
ferret  them  out;  and  then  everybody  will  own — even  old 
Hepburn  will  have  to  own — that  there  is  no  ground  whatever 
for  saying  you  had  anything  to  do  with  this  business —  " 

Temple  grew  as  red  as  fire,  and  looked  so  very  uncomfort- 
able, that  Wright  stopped  short  in  the  middle  of  his  sentence. 
"I  suppose  you  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  Charlie?"  he 
resumed  almost  involuntarily.  "  You  didn't  go  out  last  night 
I  suppose — ' 

"  I  am  not  going  to  be  questioned  by  you,"  broke  in  Temple, 
angrily.  ."  It  is  no  business  of  yours  at  any  rate," 


206  Wlio  did  it  ? 

"  Of  course,  it  is  not,  Charlie,"  rejoined  Wright.  "  I  am 
sure  I  had  no  intention  of  saying  anything  that  could  offend 
you.  We'll  drop  the  matter  altogether,  if  you  wish  it." 

"  Well,  it  will  be  better,  George,"  said  Temple,  recovering 
himself.  "  This  is  a  most  unpleasant  business,  and  the  less 
said  about  it  the  better.  But  you  mustn't  think  I  care  a  bit 
for  what  Hepburn  may  choose  to  say,  or  think  either.  I  know 
he  dislikes  me.  He  has  shown  that  plain  enough,  and  he  is 
glad  of  the  opportunity  of  spiting  me  by  depriving  me  of  this 
prize." 

"  He  hasn't  deprived  you  of  it  yet,"  remarked  Winburne, 
"and  if  I  were  you,  I  wouldn't  let  him  deprive  me  of  it  at  all." 

"  I  wouldn't,  I  am  sure,  if  I  could  help  it,"  said  Temple, 
with  a  faint  attempt  at  a  smile  ;  "  but  what  chance  is  there  of 
my  getting  it  now  ?  " 

"  A  very  good  one,"  returned  Winburne,  "  if  you  will  pluck 
up  and  work.  You  know  how  many  marks  you  got  in  one 
week,  Charlie — about  the  middle  of  last  half  it  was,  I  re- 
member ?  " 

"  What,  when  there  was  that  copy  of  Latin  verses  about  the 
mermaids  and  the  Greek  Iambics  from  Romeo  and  Juliet  ? " 
returned  Temple.  "  Ah  !  I  remember  those  two  subjects 
happened  to  suit  me  exactly.  I  daresay  I  got  a  pot  of  marks 
for  them,  though  I  don't  remember  how  many." 

"  Well,  I  do  then,  Charlie,  anyhow,"  said  Winburne ;  "  you 
got  twenty-five  marks — twelve  for  the  Greek  Iambics,  ten  for 
the  Latin  poem,  and  only  three  for  all  the  rest  of  your  week's 
work.  If  you  had  done  all  your  week's  lessons  anything  like 
as  well  as  you  did  the  compos,  you  would  have  scored  six-and- 
thirty  at  least.  Suppose  you  scored  six-and-thirty  a  week  to 


TJtc  Pistol.  207 

the  end  of  this  half — why  that  would  be  something  like  six 
hundred  marks  !  Burton  never  gets  more  than  a  dozen,  or  at 
the  most  fifteen  marks  a  week — eight  or  nine  for  the  lessons 
and  four  or  five  for  the  compos.  Why,  Charlie,  you'd  beat 
his  head  off — beat  him  if  he  had  had  two  hundred  added  to 
his  score  instead  of  one." 

Temple  could  not  forbear  a  smile.  "  I  must  say  you  are  a 
good  fellow  to  back  one  up,  Jack,"  he  said.  "  But  it  is  one 
thing  to  get  twenty-two  marks  for  compos,  when  the  subjects 
happen  to  suit  one,  and  another  thing  to  get  them  every  week 
whether  they  happen  to  suit  one  or  not,  and  then  there  are 
those  lessons — I  certainly  might  do  better  with  them  if  I  chose 
it.  There  is  that  Livy  in  particular,  and  the  Memorabilia — if 
there's  one  thing  I  hate  more  than  another  it's  that  book.  I 
am  always  getting  into  a  row  with  the  Doctor  about  it.  But  I 
suppose  I  could  do  that  better,  and  the  Livy  too,  if  I  were  to 
try." 

"  You  could  do  it  first-chop,  Charlie,"  said  Wright,  "  if  you'd 
only  turn  to  with  a  will.  I  must  say  I  should  like  uncommonly 
to  see  you  get  this  prize  after  all — how  it  would  sell  Hepburn 
to  be  sure.  I'd  give  five  pound  if  I  had  it  to  see  his  face  ! " 

"  Yes,  and  I  shouldn't  be  sorry  for  that,"  said  Temple. 
"  But  you  must  remember  that  even  if  I  were  to  do  all  you 
say,  you  must  not  reckon  upon  others  not  working  double  tides 
too.  Burton  and  Graves  might  '  turn  to  with  a  will '  as  well 
as  myself." 

"  I  don't  believe  Burton  has  got  the  go  in  him,"  said  Win- 
burne.  "  He  puts  on  his  best  pace  as  it  is,  and  couldn't  go  a 
mile  an  hour  faster  if  it  were  ever  so.  And  as  for  Graves, 
catch  him  troubling  himself  about  this  prize.  Why,  he  has 


208  Who  did  it? 

more  money  than  he  knows  what  to  do  with  already.  What 
is  fifty  pound  to  him,  that  he  is  to  grind  all  day  for  three 
months  and  more  to  get  it  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  you  mustn't  reckon  upon  that,  Jack,"  said  Wright. 
"  I  heard  Dilke  and  Rawes  talking  about  it  a  few  minutes  ago 
in  the  playground.  They  said  that  Graves  thought  he  hadn't 
been  fairly  treated — that  they  wanted  to  jockey  him  out  of  this 
prize,  and  he  wasn't  going  to  allow  it.  He  has  gone  into  the 
school-room  to  begin  work  already.  But  never  mind,  Charlie, 
you  are  not  obliged  to  gain  a  hundred  marks  upon  him.  You 
are  two  or  three  ahead  of  him  already.  And  you  know  well 
enough,  though  Graves  is  a  very  different  sort  of  fellow  from 
Burton,  he'll  never  pass  you,  if  you  are  resolved  he  shan't." 

"And  he  shan't,"  exclaimed  Temple,  clenching  his  fist. 
"  I  thank  you  two  fellows  with  all  my  heart.  If  I  don't  get 
this  prize  after  all,  any  way  it  shan't  be  my  fault." 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

A    BATHING    LESSON. 

ABOUT  a  month  had  passed  since  the  occurrence  related  in  the 
last  chapter.  The  interest  felt  by  the  boys  in  the  detection  of 
the  offender,  which  for  a  long  time  had  engrossed  their  atten- 
tion, had  begun  to  give  way  to  another  subject,  which  at  this 
time  of  the  year  generally  absorbed  their  thoughts.  This  was 
the  Walescliff  regatta,  which  always  took  place  in  the  month 
of  September,  and  was  usually  a  most  attractive  affair.  Its 
popularity  was  owing  in  the  first  place  to  the  local  celebrity  of 
Walescliff,  which  in  remote  times  had  been  a  place  of  con- 
siderable importance,  and  although  it  had  been  far  outstripped 
both  in  respect  of  wealth  and  population  by  Haverport,  Wick- 
field,  and  other  contiguous  towns,  it  still  retained  the  prestige 
of  antiquity.  Besides  this,  the  harbour  was  a  place  especially 
suitable  for  a  regatta.  It  has  been  already  cursorily  described 
in  a  previous  chapter,  but  the  reader  may  wish  to  have  a  more 
minute  account  of  it.  It  was  formed  by  an  estuary  of  the 
river  Wale,  but  it  differed  from  most  estuaries,  in  that  it  was 
not  choked  by  the  sand  and  mud  brought  down  by  the  river. 
It  consisted  of  a  very  deep  chasm  in  the  rocky  strata,  and  all 
the  deposit  of  the  Wale  since  the  days  of  the  Flood  had  not 

o 


210  Who  did  it? 

been  sufficient  to  fill  this  up.  There  was  in  consequence 
always  deep  water,  whatever  the  state  of  the  tide  might  be, 
and  tolerably  large  vessels  could  come  up  to  the  landing  places 
at  any  hour  of  the  day.  This  rendered  the  little  harbour  not 
only  more  picturesque,  but  better  suited  for  rowing  and  sailing. 

It  had  been  the  custom  for  many  generations  past  for  the 
magnates  of  the  county  to  give  prizes  to  be  contended  for  on 
the  occasion.  The  Lord  Lieutenant  presented  a  silver  cup  lo 
the  winner  of  the  yacht  race,  which  was  open  to  all  the  county ; 
Sir  J.  Taunton  and  Mr  Lumley,  the  Members,  a  purse  of 
sovereigns  to  the  successful  competitors  in  the  six-  and  four- 
oared  matches  ;  subscriptions  were  raised  to  bestow  other  less 
costly  rewards  to  the  best  oarsmen  in  the  double  and  single 
sculling  contests,  the  duck  hunt,  the  punting  match,  and  the 
like.  The  prize  given  by  the  owner  of  Hawley  Manor  for 
many  years  past  had  been  the  same — a  douceur  of  two  guineas 
to  the  best  swimmer,  and  of  one  guinea  to  the  best  diver. 

The  Holmwood  boys,  though  always  interested  spectators 
of  the  regatta,  and  warm  partisans  of  the  Walescliff  crews, 
could,  of  course,  take  no  part  in  the  sailing  matches,  not  being 
possessed  of  yachts  of  their  own.  They  had  occasionally, 
though  rarely,  competed  in  the  four-oar  contest,  and  a  very 
dim  and  uncertain  tradition  affirmed  that  they  had  been  once 
victorious  in  it.  But  the  difficulty  of  finding  among  the  boys 
four  rowers  of  sufficiently  stalwart  proportions  to  contend 
successfully  with  picked  men  from  the  large  fishing  towns  of 
Haverport  and  Wickfield  was  so  great,  that  the  tradition  in 
question  was  generally  regarded  as  mythical.  But  it  was  a 
different  matter  with  the  swimming  and  diving  prizes.  For  the 
first  of  these  they  had  frequently  been  successful,  and  for  the 


A  Bathing  Lesson.  2 1 1 

second  they  had  generally  proved  the  victors.  Old  Gunn 
regularly  every  year  undertook  the  training  of  one  or  two  of 
the  most  promising  candidates,  and  was  very  proud  of  the 
number  of  his  pupils  who  had  carried  off  the  palm. 

In  the  present  year  there  was  an  unusually  large  number  of 
competitors  from  the  Priory.     Temple  was  generally  reputed 
to  be  the  best  swimmer  in  the  school.     He  had  indeed  carried 
off  the  second  prize  in  the  regatta  of  the  previous  year,  but 
this  time  it  \va«  generally  believed  he  did  not  mean  to  enter 
for  it.     Cressingham,  Taunton,  Wright,  Hibbert,  O'Toole,  and 
Rawes  were  to  be  the  school  champions  in  the  swimming  race, 
Taunton,  O'Toole,  and  Hibbert  being  the  three  essaying  for  the 
diving  contest  also.     Of  these  Cressingham  and  O'Toole  had 
early  secured   the  services  of  Old  Gunn,  and  Taunton  and 
Rawes  those  of  his  son  James.     Wright  and  Hibbert  by  this 
arrangement  would   have  been  left  without  an  instructor,  it 
being  an  invariable  rule  that  the  Gunns  undertook  the  training 
of  two  aspirants  only.     They  would  probably  have  retired  from 
the  contest  if  the  circumstance  had  not  reached  the  ears  of  old 
Captain  Gurdon,  who  had  a  personal  liking  for  Wright,  Charlie 
Temple's  intimate  friend.     He  straightway  declared  his  readi- 
ness to  undertake  the  training  of  the  two  lads,  if  they  were 
willing  to  trust  themselves  to  him.     As  he  was  at  least  the 
equal  of  either  of  the  boatmen  as  a  swimmer,  and  as  a  diver 
much  their  superior,  it  needs  not  to  say  that  this  offer  was 
thankfully  accepted,  and  for  the  last  three  weeks  Wright  and 
Hibbert  had  been  receiving  almost  daily  lessons  to  their  own 
great  satisfaction,  no  less  than  that  of  their  instructor. 

The  old  Captain,  indeed,  was  glad  of  some  occupation  to 
divert  his  thoughts.     He  had  returned,  as  the  reader  has  heard, 


2 1 2  Who  did  it  ? 

on  the  morning  of  the  igth  of  August,  on  receiving  Dr  Thorn- 
ton's note  informing  him  of  the  slaughter  of  his  favourite  dog. 
He  had  driven  up  to  the  house  in  a  state  of  considerable 
excitement,  and  bursting  into  the  room  where  the  Doctor  was 
seated,  required  in  the  first  place  a  complete  statement  of  all 
that  was  known  respecting  the  affair,  and  in  the  second  strict 
justice  to  be  executed  on  the  offenders. 

The  Headmaster  had  been  prepared  for  the  demand,  and 
proceeded  to  give  his  brother-in-law  the  information  he  desired. 
He  told  him  in  the  first  place  how  and  by  whom  the  body  of 
poor  Neptune  had  been  found ;  then  of  the  discovery  of  the 
piece  of  stuff  between  his  teeth;  of  the  rent  in  Graves's 
trousers,  and  the  pistols  found  in  his  possession ;  of  the  refusal 
of  Graves  and  Temple  to  say  that  they  had  not  left  the  house 
on  the  previous  evening;  and,  finally,  of  the  gipsy's  clothes 
found  in  Temple's  possession,  and  the  disappearance  of  his 
trousers,  adding  that  no  one  could  doubt  that  the  perpetrator 
of  the  act  was  one  of  the  two  boys  named — the  difficulty  was 
to  say  which. 

The  old  officer  listened  to  the  Doctor's  narrative  with 
tolerable  patience,  only  interrupting  him  every  now  and  then 
with  some  exclamation  of  anger  or  disgust.  But  when  he 
heard  the  last  sentence  of  his  remarks  he  burst  out  impetuously. 

"  Temple,  Charlie  Temple  do  this  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You 
can't  think  that,  to  be  sure,  Thornton  !  Why,  Charlie  was  as 
fond  of  the  dog  as  I  was,  and  the  dog  was  as  fond  of  him  as 
of  me  !  I  wonder  you  don't  see  as  clear  as  the  day  who  it  was 
that  did  this  !  " 

"  You  mean  Graves,  I  suppose  ?  "  returned  the  headmaster. 

"  To  be  sure  I  do  !     Why,  what  doubt  can  there  be  ?     Nep, 


A  Bathing  Lesson.  213 

poor  fellow,  seized  some  one,  of  course,  whom  he  disliked. 
There  was  only  one  of  the  boys  whom  he  notoriously  disliked, 
and  that  was  Graves.  He  was  shot  with  a  pistol,  and  a  pistol 
is  found  in  the  possession  of  one  boy  only,  and  that  is  Graves. 
He  tears  some  one's  trousers,  and  only  one  boy's  trousers  are 
found  to  be  torn,  and  that  is  Graves." 

"  Those  are  suspicious  circumstances,  no  doubt,  Gurdon. 
But  then  Temple,  equally  with  Graves,  refuses  to  say  he  did 
not  go  out  last  night.  Indeed,  Mr  Hepburn  tells  me  that  he 
knows  he  did  go  out — " 

"  Hepburn  !  Hepburn  has  a  prejudice  against  Temple,  and 
is  always  making  charges  against  the  poor  lad  !  " 

"Never  mind  that,  Gurdon.  He  is  here  only  alleging  a 
fact,  which  he  says  he  can  positively  prove.  Then  again,  the 
circumstance,  which  he  himself  admits,  of  having  dressed  him- 
self up  in  the  gipsy's  clothes  and  begged  that  money  of  you  in 
Hawley  Wood—" 

"  What,  Charlie  Temple  was  the  gipsy  girl,  was  he  ?  "  broke 
in  the  Captain.  "  The  clever  young  rascal — ho,  ho,  ho  !  What 
a  joke  against  Hepburn.  He  shall  hear  of  that !  But,  how- 
ever, Doctor,  supposing  Temple  did  do  what  you  say,  what  has 
that  to  do  with  killing  poor  old  Nep  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  imply  that  it  had.  But  it  shows  how  lawless  and 
daring  the  boy  is.  Still  there  is  the  disappearance  of  his 
trousers,  of  which  he  gives  no  explanation — " 

"  He  may  really  have  lost  them  and  not  known  when  or  how. 
I've  done  the  same  more  than  once  in  my  life.  You  must 
excuse  me,  Thornton,  but  really  no  unprejudiced  person  can 
have  any  doubt  here.  I  hope  you  will  without  more  ado  take 
up  the  matter  against  Graves." 


214  Wtwdidit? 

"  Take  it  up  ?  Have  him  charged  with  the  offence  before 
the  magistrates,  do  you  mean?" 

"  To  be  sure.  I  am  sorry  for  the  injury  it  may  do  your 
school —  " 

"  That  is  not  to  be  thought  of  for  a  minute.  But  we — 
Baines  and  all — are  agreed  that  there  is  not  sufficient  evidence 
at  present  on  which  to  commit  any  one  for  trial.  It  is  not 
known  that  Graves  left  the  house  last  night,  or  this  morning. 
He  will  not  say  he  did  not,  but  that  could  not  be  brought 
forward.  He  has  pistols,  but  it  is  not  proved  that  the  bullet 
with  which  the  dog  was  shot  fits  them.  The  bullet  has  not 
been  found.  His  trousers  are  torn,  but  the  scrap  in  the  dog's 
mouth  has  been  so  mutilated  and  dragged  out  of  shape  that  it 
cannot  be  fitted  to  the  rent  in  Graves's  trousers.  If  you  could 
prove  that  Graves  was  out  with  one  of  his  pistols  that  morning, 
or  find  the  bullet —  " 

"  I'll  do  one  or  the  other,  if  not  both,  Thornton.  My  poor 
old  favourite  shan't  be  murdered  in  this  manner,  and  the  brute 
that  did  it  escape  scot-free.  I  shall  say  no  more  about  this, 
Doctor,  till  I  can  produce  the  evidence  you  require.  Then 
you'll  hear  again.  Good  morning  ! " 

He  started  up,  and  leaving  the  house,  began  straightway  to 
prosecute  his  inquiries  with  a  vigour  which  ought  speedily  to 
have  brought  everything  to  light.  For  a  day  or  two  he  flattered 
himself  he  was  making  some  progress,  but  as  the  time  went 
on,  and  nothing  material  was  discovered,  he  began  to  lose 
heart,  and  before  the  end  of  the  week  was  glad  to  divert  his 
thoughts  by  undertaking,  as  the  reader  has  heard,  the  training 
of  the  boys  for  the  swimming  and  diving  matches. 

One  day  about  the  middle  of  September  the  conversation 


A  Bathing  Lesson.  215 

happened  to  turn  on  the  diving  match  which  had  taken  place 
early  in  the  half-year  between  Taunton  and  O'Toole,  at  which 
the  Captain  had  been  present. 

"  Young  Taunton  doesn't  dive  badly,"  he  said.  "  He  has 
been  as  well  taught,  I  daresay,  as  any  man  who  hadn't  been 
in  the  South  Seas  could  teach  him.  But  if  you'll  mind  what 
I  tell  you,  Hibbert,  he'll  have  no  more  chance  with  you  than 
— than  I  should  have  with  an  alligator  ! " 

"  They're  first-rate  divers,  I  suppose,  sir  ?  "  said  Hibbert. 

"I  should  think  they  were.  If  you  had  had  such  an 
encounter  with  one  as  I  once  had,  you  would  have  reason  to 
know  the  fact." 

"When  was  that,  sir?"  asked  Wright.  "Hibbert  and  I 
would  very  much  like  to  hear,  if  you  have  no  objection  to 
tell  us." 

"  I  have  no  objection,"  said  the  Captain,  who  was  fond  of 
telling  one  of  his  yarns,  when  he  could  get  a  good  listener. 
"  It  was  in  the  State  of  Mississippi,  in  North  America.  The 
alligators  grow  to  a  very  large  size  about  there — fifteen  and 
sixteen  long  some  of  them — with  enormous  heads.  I  have 
measured  one  that  was  more  than  two  feet  in  length,  with  rows 
of  teeth  like  large  nails.  They  are  about  as  frightful  creatures  to 
look  at  as  can  be  imagined.  They'll  get  together  sometimes  in 
some  spot  they  fancy — the  mouth  of  a  river  generally,  and 
bellow  so  loud  that  you  could  hear  them  a  mile  off  and  more. 
But  sometimes  they'll  lie  at  the  bottom  of  a  pond — they  like 
ponds,  when  they  can  find  them,  better  than  rivers — they'll  lie 
at  the  bottom  as  quiet  as  if  they  were  so  many  large  blocks  of 
stone,  for  hours  together,  and  all  of  a  moment  come  up  to  the 
surface,  shewing  their  ugly  heads  and  long  jaws  that  would  cut 


216  Who  did  it? 

a  man  in  half  as  easy  as  a  gardener  snips  off  a  twig  with  his 
shears." 

"  They  don't  venture  to  attack  men,  do  they,  sir  ?  "  asked 
Hibbert. 

"Don't  they,  my  lad?  A  good  many  niggers  on  the 
Carolina  plantations,  and  not  a  few  whites  too,  could  tell  a 
different  tale.  It  is  said  that  they  always  prefer  black  men's 
flesh  to  white,  when  they  have  the  choice.  I  don't  know  how 
that  may  be.  But  they've  no  objection  to  breakfast  or  dine 
off  a  white  man,  that's  certain. 

"  Well,  as  I  said,  I  had  gone  over  to  Mississippi  State  for  a 
fortnight's  run,  and  my  messmate,  Murtough  M'Grath,  had  gone 
over  with  me.  M'Grath  was  a  very  good  fellow,  and  though  an 
Irishman,  a  deal  more  cautious  and  thoughtful  than  I  was. 
That,  however,  might  well  be.  When  I  was  twenty-two  I  was 
as  harum-scarum  a  young  blockhead  as  any  one  of  your 
schoolfellows,  or  yourself  either,  George." 

"  Thank  you  for  that,  sir,"  said  Wright,  laughing.  "  I  am 
glad  one  of  the  alligators  didn't  eat  you  up,  however." 

"  No,  but  one  nearly  did.  It  was  a  hot  afternoon,  you  see. 
Jn  this  country  we  don't  in  general  know  what  heat  means,  but 
out  there,  one  soon  learns.  We  had  been  tramping  all  the 
morning  through  the  woods,  and  had  each  of  us  got  a  pretty 
heavy  bag,  when  all  of  a  moment  we  carne  upon  a  small  lake, 
shut  in  by  the  trees  on  every  side  except  one,  where  there  was 
a  border  of  delicious  green  turf.  We  lay  down  to  rest,  and  eat 
our  tiffin,  and  then  I  proposed  that  we  should  have  a  bathe. 
Murtough  warned  me  that  it  wasn't  safe  to  venture  one's  self 
naked  in  the  water  unless  one  knew  the  place  thoroughly. 
There  were  often  poisonous  snakes  hidden  in  the  herbage ; 


A  Bathing  Lesson.  217 

and  even  in  the  water  itself  there  were  sometimes  dangerous 
vermin.  But  I  wouldn't  heed  him.  I  undressed  on  the  top  of 
a  flat  piece  of  rock  overhanging  the  pool,  and  plunged  into  deep 
water.  It  was  delicious,  and  I  swam  about  chaffing  Murtough, 
who  was  sitting,  rifle  in  hand,  on  the  bank.  I  had  been  in 
about  five  minutes  when  I  heard  a  splash  behind  me,  and  at 
the  same  moment  M'Grath  called  out  to  me  to  make  for  the 
bank  as  hard  as  I  could.  '  Don't  look  round,'  he  shouted, 
'  but  swim  for  it.'  I  was  too  much  alarmed  to  take  his  advice ; 
indeed  I  looked  round  the  moment  I  heard  the  splash." 

"  And  you  saw  an  alligator's  head,  I  suppose,  sir,"  suggested 
Hibbert. 

"  I  did,  my  lad.  My  blood  runs  cold  at  the  recollection 
even  now.  It  was  an  enormous  brute,  and  his  jaws  were  wide 
open,  shewing  his  ranges  of  teeth,  which  he  designed  to 
employ  in  my  service.  I  caught  sight  at  the  same  moment  of 
M'Grath,  who,  like  a  prudent  man,  always  fired  off  his  rifle 
before  laying  it  down.  The  sight  suddenly  restored  my  nerve. 
I  saw  it  was  impossible  for  me  now  to  reach  the  bank  before  the 
brute  could  catch  me.  He  had  fortunately  risen  up  at  the 
very  end  of  the  pond,  or  he  would  have  had  me  in  a  jifiey. 
It  was  equally  plain  that  Murtough  couldn't  be  in  time  to  stop 
him  with  a  bullet.  There  was  only  one  hope  for  me.  I  must 
dive  under  him.  These  creatures  can  turn  more  quickly  in  the 
water  than  on  land,  but  their  great  length  impede  their  move- 
ments at  all  times.  I  turned  round  and  faced  him.  He  was 
only  four  or  five  feet  from  me,  making  straight  at  me.  I 
plunged  straight  down  for  two  or  three  feet  and  then  struck 
out,  emerging  beyond  him  about  half-way  down  the  pond.  He 
swung  himself  round  more  rapidly  than  I  had  expected,  and 


218  Who  did  it? 

again  made  at  me.  M'Grath  now  gave  him  a  shot ;  but  he 
had  moved  his  head  just  at  the  moment  when  Murtough 
fired,  and  the  ball  struck  his  upper  jaw,  wounding  him 
severely  but  not  mortally.  He  made  a  savage  plunge 
forward,  and  I  had  to  dive  again,  but  I  was  a  good  deal 
exhausted  with  my  exertions,  and  could  hardly  force  my  way 
through  the  water.  If  my  friend's  second  bullet  had  had  no 
better  luck  than  his  first,  it  would  have  been  all  up  with  me. 
But  his  second  ball  went  true  enough  into  the  monster's  eye, 
and  he  was  soon  struggling  in  his  death  agony.  I  just 
managed,  with  Murtough's  help,  to  crawl  up  the  bank." 

"  That  was  a  near  go,  sir,  indeed,"  said  Hibbert.  "  What 
became  of  your  friend,  Mr  M'Grath  ?  " 

"  He  is  in  India,  but  his  time  is  nearly  up,  and  I  hear  he  is 
coming  home  immediately.  He  is  a  friend  of  Colonel  Wilder's 
as  well  as  mine,  and  was  staying  with  him  two  years  ago.  He 
had  been  invalided  and  came  home  for  a  year.  I  should  think 
you  must  remember  him." 

"  I  remember  seeing  a  gentleman  who  was  often  about  with 
Harry  Wilder,  sir,  tall,  with  a  grey  moustache  and  a  slight 
limp." 

"  Ay,  that  was  M'Grath.  He  had  a  wound  five  years  ago, 
which  makes  him  limp,  and  there  has  been  plenty  to  turn  his 
moustache  grey  since  the  days  when  he  shot  the  alligator. 
Well,  our  lesson  is  over  for  to-day.  We  may  sit  here  and  rest 
ourselves  awhile.  How  are  things  going  on  up  at  the  Priory  ? 
How  is  the  gipsy  ?  " 

"  Meaning  Temple,  I  suppose,"  answered  Wright,  laughing. 
"I  am  sure  you  are  very  kind,  sir,  to  take  that  so  good- 
naturedly." 


A  Bathing  Lesson.  219 

"  Well,  it  would  be  a  very  ill-conditioned  fellow  who  would 
be  made  angry  by  a  joke  like  that !  "  rejoined  the  old  man. 
"  Charlie  Temple  is  a  monstrous  clever  fellow,  and  a  good 
one,  I  believe,  into  the  bargain.  And  he  is  a  famous  swimmer 
too.  It  is  a  pity  that  he  has  given  up  practising  for  this  swim- 
ming race." 

"  He  is  working  so  hard  for  this  Hawley  prize,  sir,  that  he 
will  hardly  allow  himself  time  to  go  out  for  an  hour's  walk  in 
the  afternoon,"  said  Hibbert.  "Indeed,  I  don't  believe  he 
would  go  out  if  the  Doctor  didn't  positively  insist  upon  it. 
The  practice  for  the  swimming  race  would  take  up  at  least 
two  hours  on  an  average  every  day.  He  told  me  when  I  asked 
him  about  it  that  it  was  quite  out  of  the  question  his  thinking 
about  it." 

"  Well,  the  lad  is  right  to  work.  His  family  are  not  well 
off,  are  they?" 

"  No,  sir.  I  believe  Mrs  Temple  is  very  poor,  and  it  is  chiefly 
on  her  account  that  he  wants  to  get  this  prize.  He  told  me 
that  she  didn't  know  anything  about  it,  and  he  didn't  mean 
to  tell  her  until  it  was  over.  It  would  make  her  so  very 
anxious." 

"  Good  lad,  good  lad,"  said  Gurdon,  "  that's  why  he  doesn't 
ever  come  to  see  me  I  suppose,  though  as  he  does  sometimes 
take  an  hour's  walk,  he  might  sometimes  come  my  way. 
Well,  I  hope  he  may  win  the  day,  I'm  sure.  How  is  he  get- 
ting on  ?  " 

"  He's  getting  on  capitally,"  said  Wright  "  He  gets  very 
high  marks  for  his  verses  and  themes  every  week — sometimes 
ten  for  each,  and  now  and  then  even  more,  and  he  hardly  ever 
fails  to  get  two  marks  for  every  lesson.  That  is  very  good  you 


220  Who  did  it  ? 

know,  sir.  The  Doctor  never  gives  more  than  three,  and  very 
seldom,  indeed,  more  than  two.  He  is  going  up  the  register 
like  a  sky  rocket." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  but  how  are  the  others  doing  ?  I 
saw  your  head  usher  yesterday,  and  he  told  me  he  didn't  think 
Temple  had  much  chance  of  winning." 

"  Ah,  he  doesn't  want  him  to  win,  sir,"  observed  Wright. 
"  He  dislikes  Temple,  always  has  disliked  him.  Burton  is  his 
great  favourite,  and  he  still  believes  that  he  will  come  out  first 
at  the  end  of  the  half-year,  instead  of  third,  as  everybody  else 
thinks  ! " 

"  Third  !  who  is  to  be  second  then  ?  I  know  Mr  Hepburn 
expects  Burton  to  be  first,  but  anyway  I  suppose  Charlie  would 
be  second." 

"  We  all  expect  Graves  to  be  second,  sir.  He  is  Temple's 
most  dangerous  rival.  He  is  working  double  tides  too,  and 
gets  such  a  quantity  of  marks  that  it  is  all  Temple  can  do  to 
keep  ahead  of  him.  No  one  except  Mr  Hepburn  knows 
exactly  how  the  register  stands,  but  the  general  notion  is  that 
there  has  hardly  been  a  mark  to  choose  between  Graves  and 
Temple  since  they  both  began  to  work  so  hard  about  a  month 
ago.  But  Temple  had  the  lead  then,  and  it  is  tolerably  sure 
that  he  has  never  lost  it." 

"No,"  assented  Hibbert,  "even  Graves's  party — Dilke 
and  Payne  and  the  others — don't  pretend  he  has  gained 
much  as  yet  on  Charlie,  if  he  has  gained  anything.  But 
they  say  Graves  is  safe  to  keep  on  with  his  grind,  and  Temple 
will  most  likely  get  tired  and  stop  work.  But  I  think  they 
are  mistaken." 

"  I  hope  they  are,"  observed  the  Captain  gravely ;  "  it  would 


A  Bathing  Lesson.  221 

be  a  great  disgrace  to  the  school  if  the  author  of  that  shame- 
ful and  brutal  outrage  were  to  obtain  this  prize ! " 

The  two  boys  looked  a  little  embarrassed.  The  Captain 
noticed  it,  and  went  on. 

"  Do  not  the  boys  themselves  believe  Graves  to  be  the 
person  who  shot  poor  old  Neptune  ?  I  thought  that  was  the 
general  opinion." 

"A  great  many  think  so,  sir.  George  and  I  and  all 
Temple's  friends  have  always  thought  so.  We  know  what 
Graves  threatened  to  do,  only  a  few  days  before — if  Neptune 
ever  sprang  on  him  again —  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  that  too,"  said  Captain  Gurdon.  "  Cobbe 
told  me  that.  He  says  he  heard  Graves  say  it." 

"  Yes,  sir.  All  the  school,  pretty  nearly,  heard  him,  as 
well  as  Cobbe." 

"  And  Cobbe  further  says  he  is  pretty  sure  he  saw  Graves 
outside  the  house  with  his  pistols  in  his  hand,  early  on  the 
morning  when  the  dog  was  killed,"  continued  the  Captain 
vehemently. 

"  Indeed,  sir,"  rejoined  Wright,  looking  surprised.  "  None 
of  the  fellows  know  that,  I  think.  If  it  could  be  shown  that 
Graves  was  out  in  the  yard  with  a  pistol  early  that  morning, 
I  should  imagine  that  would  settle  the  matter." 

"  So  it  would,  I  daresay,"  rejoined  the  Captain,  "  if  Cobbe 
could  swear  to  having  seen  Graves  out  that  morning.  But  he 
only  says  he  thinks  so.  Look  here,  my  lads.  I  don't  know 
that  I  am  very  wise  in  talking  to  you  about  this.  But  I  get 
so  excited  when  I  think  about  poor  old  Neptune,  that  I 
can't  keep  things  to  myself.  And  as  I  have  said  so  much,  I 
had  better  tell  you  all.  Cobbe  told  me  that  Mr  Graves  sent 


222  Who  did  it  ? 

him  up  to  the  coach  office  to  get  these  pistols  of  his  on  the 
afternoon  before  poor  Nep's  murder,  and  they  weren't  come 
then.  Well,  somehow  or  other,  Graves  had  got  them  by  eight 
or  so  the  next  morning.  He  fancied,  he  said,  Mr  Graves 
had  gone  down  to  the  coach  office  himself  quite  early  to  fetch 
them,  and  that  he  saw  him  coming  back.  His  story  is,  that  he 
was  woke  by  a  noise  like  a  scuffle  or  a  fall  outside  the  house. 
It  was  very  early,  hardly  daybreak,  and  Cobbe  thought  it  was 
a  lot  of  tramps  squabbling  out  in  the  road.  But  a  minute 
or  two  afterwards  there  came  the  sound  of  a  pistol  shot,  and 
that  quite  roused  him.  He  got  up,  and  was  hurrying  on  his 
clothes,  when  he  saw  a  tall  figure  carrying  a  mahogany  case, 
or  what  looked  like  one,  hurry  past  his  window.  He  only  saw 
it  for  a  moment,  but  he  fancied  it  was  Mr  Graves." 

"  By  Jove,"  exclaimed  Wright,  "  that  does  look  like  it ! 
But,  Captain  Gurdon,  don't  they  know  at  the  coach  office 
whether  Graves  went  down  there  that  morning  to  get  the 
pistols  ?  " 

"  No,  he  didn't  go  up  there,"  returned  the  Captain,  "  that  is 
one  of  the  strangest  features  in  the  business.  I  asked  at  the 
coach  office,  as  soon  as  I  had  heard  Cobbe's  story.  Mr  Graves 
didn't  fetch  the  pistols  ;  a  boy  whom  they  had  never  seen 
before,  or  since,  came  for  them,  and  took  them  away,  a  few 
minutes  after  the  coach  came  in.  I  got  the  boy's  description 
and  have  inquired  everywhere,  but  can  learn  nothing  about 
him.  If  ever  I  do  light  on  the  boy,  and  he  can  prove  that 
Graves  was  out  that  morning,  I  shall  insist  on  the  matter 
being  taken  up  again.  Till  then,  the  closer  things  are  kept 
the  better.  I  meant  not  to  have  said  a  word  about  it  to  any 
one.  But,  as  I  told  you  just  now,  when  the  subject  turns 


A  Bathing  Lesson.  223 

up,  I  can  hardly,  I  can't  hold  my  tongue.     But  I  hope  you 
boys  will  be  wiser  than  me,  and  say  nothing." 

"  We'll  say  nothing,  you  may  be  sure,  sir,"  said  Hibbert. 
"  We  wont  tell  even  Charlie.  Good  afternoon,  sir." 

"  Good  afternoon,  lads."  They  parted,  and  the  boys  strolled 
leisurely  home. 

"  He's  an  old  brick,  the  Captain,"  observed  Wright.  "Even 
if  I  hadn't  liked  old  Nep  so  much  myself,  I  should  have  been 
tremendously  sorry  for  his  being  killed,  because  the  old  fellow 
feels  it  so." 

"  Yes.  Nep  once  saved  his  life,  I've  heard,"  said  Hibbert. 
"  He  was  attacked  by  robbers,  wasn't  he  ?  " 

"  By  brigands,  I  believe,  in  Sicily,"  replied  Wright.  "  He 
had  his  pistols  with  him,  and  he  finished  one  fellow,  and 
wounded  another.  But  there  were  three  left,  and  they 
would  have  been  too  much  for  the  Captain,  when  all  of  a 
moment,  Neptune  came  bounding  up  and  tore  down  one 
fellow,  who  had  just  clutched  old  Gurdon  by  the  throat. 
The  other  two  cut  for  it.  He  told  Charlie  that  it  would  have 
been  all  up  with  him  in  two  minutes  more !  " 

At  this  moment  the  figure  of  one  of  the  boys  was  seen 
issuing  from  the  gate  of  the  Priory,  and  turning  into  the  path 
which  led  to  the  shrubbery.  The  next -moment  it  was  lost  to 
sight  among  the  trees. 

"Wasn't  that  Charlie?"  asked  Hibbert.  "I  only  caught 
a  glimpse  for  a  moment,  but  I  thought  it  was  he." 

"  So  it  was,"  answered  Wright.  "  He  is  just  going  out  for 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  gate-locking  to  get  a  mouthful  of 
fresh  air,  after  grinding  all  the  afternoon  over  Xenophon  and 
Latin  verses.  He  is  a  most  curious  fellow  is  Charlie.  It's 


224  WJw  did  it  ? 

not  only  that  he  never  allows  himself  more  than  a  quarter  of  an 
hour's  run  at  a  time,  but  he  never  goes  anywhere  except  into 
the  shrubbery,  where  we  saw  him  going  just  now.  There'd  be 
time  to  get  down  to  the  beach  and  back,  if  he  took  two  of 
his  quarters  of  an  hour  together,  or  to  the  cricket-ground 
anyway,  if  he  persisted  in  only  taking  one.  But  what  he  can 
find  in  that  shrubbery  that  hits  his  fancy,  I  can't  imagine." 

"Nor  I,"  said  Hibbert.  "It's  the  last  place  I  should 
fancy,  especially  now  when  some  of  the  trees  are  beginning 
to  shed  their  leaves." 

"  Well,  I  hope  he'll  win,"  rejoined  Wright,  "  and  I  fancy 
he  is  in  a  fair  way  to  do  so.  But  I  should  like  to  get  a  sight 
of  the  register,  I  must  say  that." 

"  There  isn't  much  chance  of  your  getting  your  wish,"  ob- 
served Hibbert.  "  Old  Hepburn  always  keeps  the  register 
pretty  close,  but  since  this  battle  between  the  three  seniors 
has  begun,  he  has  kept  it  closer  than  ever.  But  I  am  of  your 
mind.  I'd  give  something  handsome  to  know  how  much 
Charlie  has  gained  on  Burton." 

"  We'll  bide  our  time,  and  keep  a  sharp  look  out,"  said 
Wright.  "  Let  Hepburn  be  ever  so  careful,  he  may  be  caught 
tripping  some  day.  Two  minutes'  sight  of  the  register  would 
be  quite  enough.  It  will  be  hard  if  we  cannot  manage  that." 


CHAPTER   XV. 

A    SIGHT   OF   THE    REGISTER. 

WHILE  his  school-fellows  were  speculating  as  to  the  meaning 
of  his  movements,  Temple  himself  was  hurrying  through  the 
shrubbery  in  a  very  uncomfortable  frame  of  mind.  "What 
can  Harry  mean  by  appointing  such  a  time  as  this  for  our 
meeting?"  he  muttered.  "Even  if  he's  punctual,  which  is 
more  than  I  expect,  we  shan't  have  much  more  than  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  and  I  wanted  to  have  a  long  talk  with  him." 

He  proceeded  on  his  way,  till  he  had  reached  a  glade 
sheltered  by  the  trees  on  every  side,  which  generally  went  by 
the  name  of  the  "  Gipsy's  Hollow."  As  he  entered  it  young 
Wilder  appeared  coming  up  from  the  opposite  direction. 

"  Punctual  to  a  moment,  Charlie,"  he  said.  "  You  must 
not  be  vexed  with  me  for  not  naming  an  earlier  hour.  You 
will  hear  my  reason  presently.  I  have  only  just  been  able  to 
get  away  as  it  is." 

"  Well,  never  mind  that  now,  Harry,"  responded  Temple, 
"  we  had  better  make  the  most  of  the  time  we  have.  You 
said  in  your  note  there  were  several  things  you  wanted  to  ask 
me.  Let  us  hear  what  they  are." 

"Well,  of  course,  you  must  know  what  the  first  thing 

p 


226  Who  did  to? 

that  I  have  to  ask  is,"  said  Wilder,  "  Have  you  found  the 
pistol?" 

"I  am  sorry  to  say  I  have  not,"  returned  Temple.  "I 
don't  know  what  to  make  of  it,  Harry.  I  told  you,  you  will 
remember,  that  I  was  obliged  to  leave  it  outside  the  walls. 
I  hid  it  away  where  I  thought  no  one  could  find  it.  You  see 
I  durstn't  take  it  into  the  house ;  and,  as  it  proved,  it  would 
have  been  much  worse  if  I  had.  Thornton  had  my  bureau 
and  Graves's  searched ;  and  then  it  would  of  course  have 
been  discovered,  and  everything  would  have  come  out." 

"  And  you  are  quite  sure,  are  you,  that  you  looked  for  it  in 
the  place  where  you  had  left  it?" 

"  Not  only  that,  but  I  have  searched  the  whole  place  for 
twenty  yards  round,"  answered  Temple.  "  I  have  searched  it 
so  often  that  I  wonder  I  haven't  excited  suspicion.  I  don't 
believe  there  is  a  single  blade  of  grass  that  I  haven't  turned 
over !  Somebody,  of  course,  must  have  picked  it  up ;  but 
who  that  person  can  be,  I  can't  think.  It  can't  be  that  Baines 
or  the  other  constable  found  it,  or  they  would  have  brought  it 
out,  and  tried  to  discover  to  whom  it  belonged.  They  suspect 
me  as  it  is,  1  know,  of  shooting  the  dog,  and  if  they  could 
make  out — " 

•'*  Don't  say  anything  to  me  about  shooting  the  dog,  Charlie," 
said  Harry,  hastily,  and  almost  roughly,  "  I  don't  want  to  hear 
anything  of  that." 

Temple  looked  annoyed.  "  I  think  you  are  very  unkind, 
Harry,"  he  said.  "  You  see  what  a  difficulty,  or  rather  what 
danger  I  am  in  of  detection,  and  what  utter  ruin  it  would  be 
to  me,  and  yet  you  wont—  " 

"  No,  I  wont,"  said  the  other,  sharply.     "  I  want  to  know 


A  Sight  of  the  Register.  22/ 

about  the  pistol,  but  not  about  the  dog.  The  less  I  hear 
about  the  dog  the  better  for  me,  and  I  should  think  for  you 
too." 

"  Very  well,"  returned  Temple,  angrily.  "  I  wont  say  any 
more.  And  now  go  on  with  what  you  have  to  say  to  me." 

"  What  I  have  to  say  to  you  is,  in  the  first  place,  that  I 
think  you  must  be  mistaken  in  supposing  that  the  constables 
know  nothing  about  this  pistol.  You  have  said  so  two  or 
three  times,  but  I  don't  know  what  makes  you  say  so.  They 
have  been  making  enquiries  at  all  events  about  some  pistol 
they  have  found.  I  don't  know  that  it's  the  same,  of  course, 
as  I  have  not  seen  it ;  but  they've  asked  my  father,  whether 
he  has  lost  one  of  his  pistols  lately,  and  they  have  put  the 
same  question,  I  know,  to  Mr  Walton,  Mr  Carington,  and  to 
old  Grimes.  They've  only  just  left  my  father.  That  is  what 
made  me  so  late.  1  stayed  all  through  their  visit,  in  the  hope 
of  seeing  the  pistol,  but  they  didn't  bring  it  with  them." 

" Did  they  describe  it?"  asked  Temple. 

"  No,  they  didn't,"  said  Harry.  "  You  see  my  father  denied 
having  lost  any  pistol  at  all,  so  they  didn't  go  into  the  matter." 

"Well,  then,  it  may  be  only  a  ruse  of  theirs — pretending 
that  they  had  found  a  pistol,  in  order  to  frighten  a  fellow,  you 
see." 

"  It  is  possible,  no  doubt,"  said  Wilder,  rather  coldly.  "  I 
can't  say  how  that  may  be.  I  only  tell  you  what  I  know. 
You  must  do  what  you  yourself  think  best." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Temple,  in  an  offended  tone ;  "  that,  I 
suppose,  is  all  you  have  to  say  to  me,  and  it's  quite  as  well, 
since  it  must  now  be  getting  near  the  time  for  locking  up." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  it  is  not  all  I  have  to  say  to  you,"  said 


228  Who  did  it? 

Harry  Wilder.  "  There's  something  a  good  deal  worse.  My 
father  has  had  a  letter  from  Colonel  M'Grath  this  morning, 
telling  him  he  is  on  the  point  of  setting  out  for  England.  He 
may  be  expected  in  England  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks — 
certainly  before  Christmas,  and  probably  a  month  before  it." 

"Oh,  Harry,  you  don't  mean  that,  to  be  sure !"  exclaimed 
Temple,  in  a  tone  of  the  greatest  alarm.  "  If  he  should  arrive 
before  this  pistol  is  found,  whatever  will  become  of  me." 

"  It  would  be  very  awkward  no  doubt,"  said  his  companion 
in  a  kinder  tone.  "Look  here,  Charlie,  if  there's  nothing 
more  in  this  matter,  than  that  you  asked  me  to  lend  you  a 
pistol,  merely  for  your  amusement,  and  I  lent  you  one,  which 
Colonel  M'Grath  left  in  my  charge — -why  there  wouldn't  be 
any  great  harm  in  that,  even  if  the  pistol  was  lost.  I'd  take 
the  blame  upon  myself,  if  that  were  all.  But  then  you  see, 
there  is  this  matter  of  the  dog — " 

"  You,  yourself,  requested  just  now  that  nothing  might  be 
said  about  that,"  interrupted  Temple. 

"  I  don't  want  to  say  anything  about  it  I  only  want  you 
to  consider,  Temple,  whether  it  wouldn't  be  better  for  you  to 
go  to  Thornton,  or  my  father,  if  you  like,  and  tell  him  every- 
thing. You  may  feel  sure  that  I  shall  say  nothing,  but  if  I 
were  in  your  place — " 

"  No,  no,  Harry.  I  can't  do  it !  Perhaps  I  ought,  but  I 
can't !  I  shall  never  forgive  myself  for  my  haste  and  folly.  I 
can't  bear  to  look  old  Gurdon  in  the  face  !  No.  I  can't  do 
what  you  propose — not  yet,  at  all  events.  Please  don't  ask 
me  to  do  it."  He  paused  a  moment,  and  then  added. 

"You  told  me  just  now  that  Colonel  M'Grath  intended  to 
return  to  England  shortly — did  he  say  by  what  ship  he  meant 


A  Sight  of  tlie  Register.  229 

to  come,  or  name  the  day  on  which  he  was  to  leave 
India?" 

"  He  did  not,  he  only  said  he  was  coming  soon." 

"  Soon — well  it's  now  September.  Perhaps  he  mayn't  after 
all  be  here  before  Christmas." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  said  Wilder.  "  I  should  think  it  was  quite 
a  chance.  But  I  don't  see  that  that  makes  much  difference." 

"  Yes,  but  it  would ;  it  would  make  the  greatest  difference. 
You  see  before  then  the  pistol  may  be  found.  Some  one  must 
have  got  it,  and  they  might  be  induced  to  give  it  up,  if  a 
reward  was  offered  them — a  large  reward  you  know." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  the  other,  "  but  are  you  prepared  to  offer  a 
large  reward?" 

"I  couldn't  now  of  course,"  answered  Temple,  "but  I 
might  be  able  to  do  so  before — before  very  long.  But  just 
tell  me  one  thing,  Harry.  What  sort  of  fellow  is  this  Colonel 
M'Grath?" 

"  Well,  he's  a  very  good  sort  of  fellow,  Temple.  My  father 
thinks  very  highly  of  him.  He'd  have  no  patience  with  any 
thing  underhand.  He  was  a  great  friend  of  Captain  Gurdon's 
too." 

Temples  cheek  flushed  angrily. 

"  You  have  no  right  to  speak  to  me  in  that  way,"  he  cried. 
"  I  shall  wish  you  good  evening,  I  suppose  I  may  assume 
that  you  are  not  going  to  say  anything  about  this  matter  with- 
out first  giving  me  notice  of  it." 

"  I  gave  you  my  promise  that  I  would  not,"  answered  Wilder, 
coldly,  "  and  when  I  give  a  promise  I  keep  it.  But  I  warned 
you  at  the  same  time  if  I  should  be  questioned  about  it,  I 
should  say  nothing  but  what  was  true." 


230  Who  did  iff 

"Nobody  ever  asked  you  to  do  anything  else,"  retorted 
Temple,  with  equal  coldness.  He  turned  away,  and  walked 
off  towards  the  house. 

Harry  Wilder  looked  after  him  with  a  wistful  expression  on 
his  face.  "  It  is  a  pity  he  does  not  speak  out,"  he  said,  half 
aloud.  "  If  he  shot  the  dog  in  self-defence,  or  by  accident, 
and  would  only  say  so,  I  think  every  one  would  forgive  him. 
But  he  has  no  business  to  allow  suspicion  to  rest  upon  any 
one  else;  and  there  is  one  fellow,  at  all  events,  I  am  told,  who 
is  suspected  of  having  done  the  act,  even  more  than  Charlie 
himself  is.  Well,  I  shall  keep  to  my  promise ;  say  nothing 
unless  asked ;  say  the  truth,  if  I  am." 

Meanwhile  Charlie  Temple  hurried  as  fast  as  he  could  to 
the  gate,  and  was  fortunate  enough  to  gain  admission,  notwith- 
standing that  the  proper  time  for  locking  up  had  passed.  He 
went  straight  to  his  study,  and  locked  himself  in.  Then,  tak- 
ing out  a  letter,  the  postmark  of  which  showed  it  had  been 
received  only  that  morning,  he  read  it  carefully  through.  It 
ran  as  follows  :  — 

WEST  STREET,  EDBURNE. 

MY  DEAR  CHARLIE, — I  have  this  morning  received  a  reply 
from  your  uncle,  which  has  been  a  long  time  coming.  I 
believe  he  has  been  away  from  Malaga  for  some  time,  though 
he  does  not  say  so.  He  is,  in  general,  punctual  enough  in 
answering  letters.  Perhaps  he  has  been  unwilling  to  answer 
this  letter ;  indeed,  I  wish  he  had  been  longer  in  answering  it. 
If  he  had  taken  more  time  for  reflection,  I  think  he  would  not 
have  written  so  harshly.  He  will  not  hear  of  your  going  to 
the  University — that  is,  he  will  do  nothing  towards  helping 
you  to  go  there.  He  says  he  does  not  see  what  would  be  the 


A  Sight  of  the  Register.  231 

good  of  such  a  proceeding,  as  you  have  no  intention  of  going 
into  orders.  He  had  engaged,  he  says,  to  pay  your  schooling 
up  to  Christmas  next.  By  that  time  you  ought  to  be  fit  to 
go  into  any  business — take  a  clerk's  place  in  a  bank  or  a 
mercantile  house ;  and  if  you  have  not  availed  yourself  of 
your  opportunities,  that  must  be  entirely  your  own  fault.  As 
for  his  own  house,  if  you  can  produce  a  good  character  from 
your  headmaster,  and  are  a  tolerable  French  scholar,  and  can 
pass  an  examination  in  arithmetic  and  book-keeping,  he  will 
give  you  a  trial.  If  he  should  feel  satisfied  with  you,  he  will 
"  do  something  more  for  you."  By  that  I  suppose  he  means, 
take  you  into  partnership.  Indeed,  if  he  should  be  pleased 
with  you,  there  is  no  reason  why  he  should  not  do  this.  He 
has  never  been  married,  and,  at  his  time  of  life,  he  is  not 
likely  to  marry ;  he  has  no  relative  so  near  as  yourself,  and 
he  was  very  fond  of  your  father. 

This  offer  is  all  we  could  wish  for  you,  my  dear  boy ;  but, 
then,  there  is  the  difficulty  of  the  knowledge  of  French  and 
book-keeping.  You  told  me,  I  think,  when  I  asked  you,  that 
you  had  never  been  taught  either  the  one  or  the  other  at 
Holmwood,  and  certainly  you  cannot  have  learnt  them  any- 
where else,  I  mentioned  this  in  a  letter  to  your  uncle,  and 
asked  whether  he  would  continue  his  allowance  to  you  for  one 
year  more,  in  order  that  you  might  qualify  yourself  in  these 
two  particulars,  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  this  request  seems  to 
have  vexed  him.  You  know  how  suspicious  he  is  apt  to  be 
of  people  trying  to  encroach  upon  his  kindness,  and,  unluckily, 
he  has  this  idea  in  his  mind  very  strongly,  as  far  as  you  are 
concerned.  If  he  came  to  know  you  as  you  now  are,  Charlie, 
he  would  soon  change  his  opinion  on  this  point.  But  the 


232  Who  did  it? 

misfortune  is  that  he  not  only  does  not  know  you,  but  has 
conceived  a  very  unjust  and  very  unfavourable  opinion  respect- 
ing you.  It  would  be  no  use,  I  fear,  attempting  to  alter  his 
determination  on  this  head.  Therefore,  so  far  as  I  can  see, 
I  am  afraid  you  must  give  up  all  hope  of  help  from  your  uncle, 
It  would  take  at  least  a  year  to  teach  you  enough  French,  as 
well  as  arithmetic  and  book-keeping,  to  satisfy  your  uncle's 
requirements,  Mr  Hawkin,  the  actuary,  who  did  a  great  deal 
of  business  for  your  father,  and  who  is  always  willing  to  help 
us,  would  undertake  to  teach  you  the  book-keeping.  His 
charges  would  be  very  small,  if  anything,  and  you  could  not 
have  a  better  teacher;  and  there  is  a  French  gentleman,  a 
Buonapartist,  who  has  lately  settled  in  Edburne,  and  gives  les- 
sons in  French,  His  charges  are  five  shillings  a  lesson,  I 
have  consulted  him  on  the  subject,  He  tells  me  that  you 
ought  to  have  at  least  four  lessons  a  week  for  at  least  a  twelve- 
month, and  he  could  not  conscientiously  undertake  to  teach 
you  to  speak  French  fluently  under  that  time,  however  hard 
you  might  work.  Then  there  would  be  your  living  at  home, 
and  the  expenses  of  your  outfit  and  voyage  to  Malaga ;  for 
your  uncle  positively  refuses  to  do  anything  more  for  you 
until  you  present  yourself — as  I  wish  with  all  my  heart  there 
was  any  chance  of  your  doing — properly  qualified,  in  his 
counting-house.  Altogether  it  would  cost  more  than  a  hun- 
dred pounds— probably  a  hundred  and  fifty.  And  you  know, 
my  boy,  we  might  as  well  try,  in  our  present  circumstances,  to 
raise  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds  as  a  hundred  and 
fifty.  It  must  all  be  given  up,  I  am  afraid.  Mr  Wilde,  who 
keeps  the  grammar  school  here,  will  take  you  as  one  of  his 
junior  ushers.  It  is  only  forty  pounds  a  year,  and  the  work 


A  Sight  of  the  Register.  233 

altogether  beneath  your  abilities ;  and  possibly,  Mr  Hall,  the 
banker,  might  give  you  a  junior  clerkship ;  but  even  there  you 
would  have  to  prepare  yourself  by  some  months'  study,  at  the 
least,  and  I  do  not  know  how  even  that  could  be  afforded.  I 
fear  Mr  Wilde's  situation  is  the  only  one  open  to  you,  and, 
sorry  as  I  am  to  have  to  send  you  such  information,  I  have  no 
alternative  but  to  do  so,  Winifred  joins  with  me  in  love  and 
regrets, — Your  affectionate  mother,  SELINA  TEMPLE. 

Temple  read  this  long  letter  twice  through  before  he  laid  it 
down, 

"  It's  like  a  fatality,"  he  muttered.  "  That  appointment  is 
the  very  thing  I  have  always  fancied,  and  it  would  be  the 
making  of  me,  and  would  relieve  my  mother  and  sister  from 
all  their  troubles.  I  had  quite  given  up  the  hope  of  it  when 
this  Hawley  prize  comes  all  of  a  sudden,  utterly  unexpected, 
utterly  beyond  all  expectation ;  and  I  should  certainly  have 
had  it  if  it  hadn't  been  for  my  own  stupid  folly.  I  don't  care 
twopence  what  that  brute  Dilke  or  that  still  greater  brute 
Rawes,  may  choose  to  say  or  think,  and  yet,  rather  than  let 
them  crow  over  me,  I  got  myself  first  into  that  scrape  about 
dressing  myself  up  as  a  gipsy,  and  all  but  lost  the  chance  of 
getting  the  exhibition,  and  then  a  second  time  into  this  still 
more  serious  mess,  which,  if  it  should  become  known — and  I 
am  afraid  there  is  only  too  much  likelihood  that  it  will — must 
needs  floor  me  altogether !  What  a  fool  I  have  been,  to  be 
sure  !  Well,  anyway  it  is  a  lesson  which  I  shall  not  forget  in 
a  hurry ! 

"  But  how  am  I  to  get  out  of  it  ?  Shall  I,  after  all,  take 
Harry's  advice  that  he  gave  me  just  now,  and  go  and  tell  the 
whole  to  Thornton  ?  No,  no,  no,  it  won't  do  !  My  uncle 


234  Who  did  it? 

requires  '  a  good  character  from  my  master.'  Old  Thornton 
will  say  he  can't  give  me  one  if  he  knows  all  that  has  passed. 
He'll  say  his  conscience  won't  let  him,  and  people  would 
blame  him  if  he  did,  and  that  I  didn't  deserve  it  Well,  I 
suppose  I  don't ;  and  if  I  only  were  concerned  in  this  business, 
I  think  I  would  speak  out,  and  let  Graves  or  Burton  have  the 
scholarship — little  as  it  matters  to  them,  while  it  is  all  in  all 
to  me.  But  there's  my  mother  and  my  sister.  They  would 
be  punished  much  more  than  I  should,  and  surely  they  don't 
deserve  to  suffer. 

"  No,  I  must  hold  on ;  and,  after  all,  I  think  Harry  Wilder 
makes  out  the  matter  to  be  worse  than  it  is.  Let  him  say 
what  he  will,  I  doubt  the  constables  having  got  possession  of 
that  pistol,  and  I  don't  understand  how  they  could  have  got 
hold  of  it.  Cobbe  told  me  they  did  not  come  up  to  the  house 
till  nearly  seven  o'clock,  and  I  was  out  fully  twenty  minutes 
before  seven,  hunting  everywhere.  No;  some  tramp  has 
picked  it  up,  and  is  waiting  for  a  reward  to  be  offered.  Then 
this  Colonel  M'Grath — if  he  comes  home  before  the  Haw- 
ley  is  settled,  and  takes  up  the  matter  against  me,  I  am 
utterly  done.  Well,  as  I've  said  before,  he  may  not  come 
before  Christmas,  and  he  may  consent  to  keep  my  secret. 
Anyhow,  there  is  no  use  in  fretting  about  this." 

He  took  out  his  books  and  sat  resolutely  down  to  prepare 
his  Xenophon  lesson  for  the  next  day,  deaf  to  repeated  raps 
at  his  door,  and  entreaties  to  be  admitted.  It  was  not  until 
he  had  quite  finished  his  task,  having  read  all  that  half-a- 
dozen  commentators  had  to  say,  having  followed  out  the 
dialectic  variations  of  every  unusual  word,  and  having  fully 
satisfied  himself  as  to  every  geographical  and  historical  allu- 


A  Sight  of  the  Register.  235 

sion  which  occurred  anywhere  in  the  lesson,  that  he  desisted. 
He  would  then  have  taken  the  Latin  theme  for  the  week  in 
hand,  but  that  he  found  it  was  too  near  supper-time  for  this 
to  be  of  any  use.  He  put  away  his  books  therefore,  and  un- 
locking his  door,  strolled  into  the  school-room,  where  he  was 
instantly  fastened  on  by  George  Wright  and  Jack  Winburne. 

"  We've  been  looking  for  you  ever  so  long,  old  man,"  said 
Winburne.  "  Your  study  was  locked,  and  I  suppose  you  were 
inside,  as  you  weren't  to  be  found  anywhere  else.  But  if  so, 
you  were  'deafer  than  the  rocks  of  Icarus' — wherever  they 
may  happen  to  be,  of  which  we  heard  in  the  Horace  this 
morning." 

"I  have  need  to  be  deaf,  Jack,"  returned  Temple,  "if  you 
are  to  thunder  after  that  fashion  at  my  door.  It  is  of  no  use, 
I  have  already  told  you  ;  I  don't  mean  to  let  you  and  George 
into  my  study  again  till  this  Hawley  prize  has  been  decided." 

"  Well,  you  are  right,  Charlie."  said  Wright,  "  and  we  must 
content  ourselves  with  such  scraps  of  your  society  as  you  are 
pleased  to  give  us.  But  we  thought  you  would  like  to  hear 
what  we  had  to  tell  you,  even  if  it  did  withdraw  your  atten- 
tion from  Greek  particles  and  Iambics  for  ten  minutes." 

"  If  you've  anything  pleasant  to  tell  me,  let  me  hear  it  now," 
said  Temple.  "  It  will  be  very  acceptable.  I  haven't  heard 
anything  pleasant  for  a  long  time  now." 

"Well,  we've  two  pieces  of  information  to  give  you," 
returned  Wright.  "  In  the  first  place  Tom  Hibbert  and  I  have 
been  down  with  old  Gurdon,  practising  for  the  Regatta,  you 
know.  And  we  had  a  long  confab  with  the  old  Captain. 
You  would  be  pleased  if  you  had  heard  what  he  said  about 
you  ?  " 


236  WJiodidit? 

"  I  know  he  is  a  jolly  good  fellow,"  said  Temple,  with  a 
sigh,  "and  has  been  very  kind — much  kinder  than  I  deserve!" 

"  Yes,  but  for  the  last  few  weeks,  you  know,  he  has  said 
very  little  about  you.  We  thought " — he  added  quickly,  as  he 
noticed  the  expression  of  Temple's  face — "  we  thought  that 
was  because  you  hadn't  been  to  see  him.  But  to-day  he  did 
speak  of  you  again,  and  very  kindly.  He  is  fully  convinced 
that  the  person  who  killed  poor  old  Nep  was  Graves.  He 
has  got  a  lot  of  evidence  together,  he  says,  which  proves  quite 
plainly " 

"  I  wish  you  would  say  nothing  at  all  on  that  subject,"  broke 
in  Temple.  "  I  thought  I  had  already  asked  you,  as  a  personal 
favour  to  me,  to  say  nothing  about  it  But  if  I  haven't  done 
so,  I  ask  you  now." 

"  Certainly,  I  will  say  nothing  if  you  dislike  it.  I  only 
fancied  you  would  be  glad  to  know  that  Captain  Gurdon 
didn't  believe  what  Hepburn " 

"  Hepburn  be  hanged,"  broke  out  Temple  in  a  fit  of  anger, 
which  was  very  unusual  with  him.  "  I  know  he  hates  me !  I 
know  he  would  do  anything  to  spite  me  !  I  don't  care  a  pin 
what  he  may  say !  " 

"  Nor  do  I,  Charlie.  Well,  let  us  change  the  subject. 
Weren't  you  wishing  the  other  day  that  you  knew  how  you 
and  Burton  and  Graves  stood  in  the  register  of  marks  ?  We 
were  wishing  it  only  this  very  afternoon." 

"  Yes,  I  did  say  so,  George.  I  should  like  very  much  to  know. 
I  have  my  idea  about  it,  but  after  all,  it  is  only  a  fancy.  But 
I  suppose  there  is  very  little  chance  of  my  getting  my  wish." 

"  Quite  contrary,  Charlie.  There's  every  chance  of  your 
getting  it.  What  do  you  think  happened  only  yesterday  ?  " 


A  Sight  of  the  Register.  237 

"  I  can't  say,  I'm  sure,"  replied  Temple  smiling. 

"Why,  you  remember  Hepburn  losing  the  key  of  his  desk 
— on  that  day,  you  know,  when  there  was  that  row,  and  Baines 
was  up  here  ?  " 

Temple's  colour  shewed  that  he  understood  the  reference, 
but  he  only  bent  his  head. 

"Well,  Hepburn  was  in  such  a  state  of  excitement  that  he 
hardly  knew  what  he  was  about.  He  was  bustling  here  and 
there  all  the  afternoon.  He  forgot  to  call  for  the  day's  marks 
at  the  usual  time ;  and  if  it  hadn't  been  that  he  remembered 
the  two  black  crosses  to  be  put  to  your  name  and  Graves's, 
I  believe  he  wouldn't  have  thought  about  the  marks  at  all  till 
the  next  day.  But  just  before  prayers  he  recollected  that,  and 
felt  in  his  pocket  for  his  key.  It  wasn't  to  be  found.  He 
searched  his  pockets,  and  went  up  to  his  bedroom  to  look 
there,  and  then  into  the  Doctor's  study  and  the  visitors'  room, 
where  he  had  been  talking  with  Baines ;  and  he  made  the 
fellows  search  every  corner  of  the  schoolroom,  and  sent  down 
a  message  to  the  constable's  house  to  inquire  whether  Baines 
had  taken  it  away  by  mistake.  But  it  was  no  go.  The  key 
couldn't  be  found ;  and  the  next  morning  Crew,  the  locksmith, 
was  sent  for  to  make  a  new  key,  which  Hepburn  has  used  ever 
since." 

"  I  do  remember  hearing  something  about  it  at  the  time," 
said  Temple.  "  But  I  had  forgotten  it.  Well,  what  then  ?  " 

"  Why,  it  seems  that  yesterday  afternoon,  Rawes  and  Dilke 
found  this  key.  They  found  it  in  a  very  strange  place — 
in  Graves's  bedroom." 

"  In  Graves's  bedroom  ?  "  repeated  Temple.  "  How  had 
he  got  hold  of  it?" 


238  Who  did  it? 

"  I  asked  that  question,  Charlie.  But  no,  Graves  knew 
nothing  about  it  It  was  lying  in  a  corner,  between  his  box 
and  the  wall." 

"  How  in  the  world  could  it  have  got  there  ?  " 

"  Well,  easily  enough,"  answered  Wright.  "  If  you  re- 
member, Hepburn  was  sent  by  the  Doctor  to  examine 
the  boxes  belonging  to  both  you  and  Graves.  He  had  the 
key  in  his  waistcoat  pocket,  no  doubt.  He  told  us,  as  I 
recollect  quite  well,  that  he  always  carried  it  there.  No  doubt 
he  was  leaning  over  Graves's  box,  and  the  key  fell  out  between 
it  and  the  wall.  It  might  never  have  been  discovered,  if  the 
sun  hadn't  been  streaming  in  through  the  window,  and  fell 
on  the  key." 

"  And  how  do  they  know  it  is  Hepburn's  key  ? "  asked 
Temple.  "  They  didn't  show  it  to  Hepburn,  I  suppose  ? '' 

"  No,  I  should  think  not,  Charlie,"  said  Winburne  laugh- 
ing. "  They  are  not  the  sort  of  fellows  to  do  that !  They 
made  sure  of  the  fact  in  a  very  simple  manner.  They  went 
down  to  the  schoolroom  last  night,  when  all  the  fellows  were 
in  bed,  and  tried  it.  It  opened  the  desk,  sure  enough." 

"  And  what  do  they  mean  to  do  now  ?  "  inquired  Temple. 
"  Do  they  mean  to  give  it  to  Hepburn,  or  throw  it  into  the 
sea,  or  what  ?  I  suppose  they  don't  mean  to  keep  possession 
of  it  unknown  to  Hepburn." 

"  Well,  Rawes  and  Dilke  are  noways  particular,  and  I  don't 
think  they  would  have  scrupled  to  keep  it  in  order  that  they 
might  open  Hepburn's  desk,  whenever  it  might  be  convenient 
to  them  to  do  so.  But  they  told  Taunton  about  it  this 
morning,  and  he  told  Graves." 

"  What  did  Graves  say?" 


A  Sight  of  tJte  Register.  239 

"  He  said  he  wouldn't  have  it.  Dilke  must  either  give  it 
back  to  Hepburn,  or  destroy  it.  It  had  been  found  in  his 
room,  he  said,  and  he  must  either  see  it  restored  to  its  owner 
or  broken  to  pieces." 

"Quite  right  too,"  said  Temple.  "I'm  glad  he  said  that. 
What  did  Dilke  do?" 

"  He  didn't  like  it,  but  he  durstn't  refuse  to  do  anything  that 
Graves  told  him  to  do.  So  he  got  the  big  coal-hammer  and 
knocked  it  to  pieces.  But  that  isn't  what  I  wanted  to  speak 
to  you  about.  Last  night,  when  those  fellows  went  down  to 
Hepburn's  desk,  they  saw  the  Register  of  Marks  and  looked 
at  it,  so  Taunton  told  me.  He  said  he  had  seen  the  list  of 
marks  they  had  copied.  He  couldn't  remember  quite 
accurately.  But  he  said  if  I  wanted  to  know  the  numbers,  he 
would  get  the  list  again  from  Dilke  and  copy  it  down.  I 
thought  you  might  like  to  know  exactly  how  you  stood  at 
present" 

"  Well,  I  should,  George,"  replied  Temple.  "  If  it  is  known 
in  the  school,  there  is  no  reason  why  I  shouldn't  know  it." 

On  the  following  morning  he  found  a  slip  of  paper  lying  on 
the  desk  in  his  study,  with  the  following  written  on  it. 

STATE  OF  THE  REGISTER  OF  MARKS. 

Saturday,  Aug.  12. 

Burton,      -  -         118 

Temple,     -  109 

Graves,      -  106 

Saturday,  Aug.  19. 

Burton,      -  144 

Temple,  37 

Graves,      -  35 


r_i:  Who  did  it  f 

Sthrrdrr,  Sept.  15. 


Temple,    -  166 

Graves,      -  -        -         163 


stiH  behind  Barton,"  he  nmttered.  "Twenty- 
fife  pined  in  four  weeks,  and  tibere  are  diirteen  to  come. 
Wdl,  k  B  posoble,  and  therefore  worth  trying.' 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

THE    REGATTA. 

Or  all  the  public  spectacles  exhibited  for  the  amusement  of 
the  English  people,  there  is  none  more  lively  and  spirited  than 
a  regatta.  It  requires,  of  course — to  be  perfect — fine  weather ; 
which  is  a  difficult  thing  to  reckon  upon  in  this  English 
climate.  But  even  in  this  respect  it  has  the  advantage  over 
all  other  out-door  displays.  Wet,  over  head  or  under  foot, 
render  an  archery  meeting  impossible.  A  cricket  match  is  so 
sorely  marred  by  moist  and  slippery  turf,  as  to  be  shorn  of  all  its 
glory.  People  will  go  to  a  fair  or  a  horse  race  in  any  weather ; 
but  then  it  is  business  generally,  and  not  pleasure,  that  takes 
them  there.  Nothing  can  be  more  forlorn  than  the  spectacle 
of  marquees  and  booths  soaked  through  with  wet,  the  flags 
draggled  and  drooping  overhead,  the  ground  a  quagmire 
under  foot.  Two  or  three  hours  of  heavy  rain  destroy  for  the 
entire  day  the  charm  of  the  spectacle.  But  so  long  as  the 
rain  is  not  actually  falling  at  the  time  when  the  contest  is 
going  on,  it  does  not  much  injure  a  regatta.  The  crews,  who 
have  been  sitting  comfortably  under  cover,  turn  out  with  un- 
impaired spirits  ;  the  boats  look  all  the  fresher  for  the  washing 
they  have  received  ;  the  race-course  itself  is  as  good  as  ever. 
In  the  instance  of  the  Walescliff  Regatta  even  the  booths  and 

Q 


242  Who  did  it? 

standing-places  were  wont  to  suffer  little  damage  from  the 
elements.  The  hard,  shingly  shore  was  as  dry  in  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  as  if  no  rain  had  fallen  there  for  weeks ;  the  large 
boats  in  which  most  of  the  visitors  arrived,  and  the  grand 
stand,  which  was  run  up  with  poles  and  rough  planks,  were  im- 
pervious to  weather.  Thus,  though  it  had  happened  that  the 
morning  of  the  regatta  had  been  to  all  appearance  hopelessly 
wet,  yet  before  twelve  o'clock  everything  looked  fresh  and 
brilliant — all  the  more  so,  in  fact,  for  the  heavy  rain  of  the 
last  twelve  hours. 

Throughout  the  forenoon  visitors  from  the  neighbouring 
towns  made  their  appearance — most  of  them  by  sea,  in  large 
fishing  boats,  or  colliers  hired  or  lent  for  the  occasion.  All 
were  gaily  decorated  with  flags,  and  many  of  them  had  bands 
of  music  on  board ;  and  gaily  dressed  ladies  added  lightness 
and  animation  to  the  scene.  From  inland  the  gentry  came  in 
their  carriages,  the  farmers  in  their  tax-carts,  or  it  might  be  in 
large  tilted  waggons,  conveying  the  whole  of  the  family,  house- 
servants  and  all,  for  a  day's  pleasuring.  It  was,  as  the  reader 
has  been  told,  the  occasion  of  a  great  county  gathering,  and 
when  the  day  proved  fine,  there  was  no  prettier  sight  to  be 
seen  anywhere. 

"Have  you  got  the  list  of  races,  James?"  asked  Cres- 
singham  of  young  Gunn,  as  he,  Burton,  Hill,  and  Lander 
entered  the  old  fisherman's  cottage  about  half-past  ten  o'clock, 
just  after  the  cessation  of  the  rain.  "  It  is  going  to  be  a 
splendid  day  after  all.  Look  out  to  windward  there.  It  is  as 
blue  and  clear  as  a  fellow  could  wish." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  said  James.  "  I  knew  we  were  going  to 
have  a,  fine  day  as  soon  as  I  saw  the  sky  this  morning.  Here's 


The  Regatta.  243 

the  list  My  father  is  to  be  starter  and  Captain  Gurdon  judge. 
They'll  want  some  of  you  young  gentlemen  to  row  in  the 
umpire's  boat,  if  you'll  be  so  good  as  to  take  an  oar.  The 
coast-guard  lieutenant  has  lent  us  his  light  eight-oared  cutter 
and  two  of  his  best  men ;  and  there's  Dick  Waters  and  Phil 
Hawkins,  who  are  only  in  for  the  sailing  match ;  they'll  row 
in  all  the  matches  but  that,  and  I  am  the  stroke  oar.  But  we 
shall  want  three  more,  and  they  must  be  pretty  good  hands. 
I  thought  if  you  and  Mr  Cressingham,  and  either  Mr  Graves 
or  Mr  Temple " 

'•  Neither  Mr  Graves  nor  Mr  Temple  will  be  at  the  regatta," 
said  Lander.  "  I  heard  Temple  himself  say  he  didn't  mean 
to  come,  and  Jerry  Taunton  was  telling  us  the  same  about 
Graves.  They  never  will  come  out  at  all  now,  except  when 
they  are  obliged,  and  the  doctor  wouldn't  oblige  them  to  come 
to  this  if  they  didn't  like  it." 

"  Of  course  not,"  observed  Burton.  "  But  Mr  Cressingham 
and  myself  will  be  willing  to  row  if  you  can  get  an  eighth 
any  where.  There  are  none  in  the  school,  I  am  afraid,  who 
would  do." 

"  No,  sir.  Well,  we  must  ask  Bill  Wigram,  I  suppose.  He 
has  entered  for  only  one  race — the  swimming  race,  you  know ; 
and  as  Mr  Cressingham,  who  is  to  take  part  in  that  too,  is 
willing  to  row,  I  don't  suppose  he  will  refuse." 

"  That  is  settled,  then,"  said  Burton.  "  Now  let  us  look  at 
the  list  of  the  races,  James.  There  are  a  good  lot  of  them, 
apparently." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Gunn ;  "  and  a  good  many  will  be  good 
races.  First,  there's  the  trial  heats  for  four-oared  boats.  There 
are  only  our  own  men  in  them,  and  the  outsiders  won't  care 


244  Who  did  it  f 

much  about  them ;  nor  we  either,  very  particularly,  because 
Hawkins's  crew  is  sure  to  win.  Then  comes  the  yacht  race  ; 
that  will  be  a  pretty  sight  There's  a  lot  of  sweet,  pretty 
boats  entered  for  that.  Mr  Carington's  Red  Rover,  and  Mr 
Walton's  Columbine,  and  Lord  Wandesborough's  Intrepid,  and 
the  Topaz,  belonging  to  some  gentleman  at  Haverport,  and 
Squire  Wolford's  Waterloo,  and  one  or  two  more  that  I  can't 
remember  now.  Most  of  'em  came  into  the  harbour  yester- 
day, and  the  others  this  morning.  With  this  wind  there'll  be 
a  beautiful  race.  It  will  be  the  finest  sight  of  the  day." 

"  Well,  we  shall  all  want  Squire  Wolford  to  win,"  said  Hill. 
"  He  is  a  favourite  with  us." 

"  So  he  is  with  every  one  in  these  parts,  sir.  Well,  then, 
there  comes  the  trials  for  the  eight-oared  boats;  that's  the  race 
everybody  cares  most  about.  There's  six  boats  entered — 
Curleiv,  Haverport,  Horncombe,  Loggington,  Walesdiff,  and 
Wickfield.  There'll  be  a  tough  tussle  or  two  before  that's 
settled.  The  pairs  are  all  drawn.  Loggington  and  Walesdiff 
come  first." 

"  Walesdiff 'will  win  that,  wont  it?"  asked  Lander. 

"  So  they  say,  sir.  I  haven't  seen  Loggington  row ;  but  I'm 
told  they  are  no  great  things.  Then  come  Curlew  and  Horn- 
combe.  That  will  be  a  hollow  thing.  But  Wickfield  and  Haver- 
port will  have  a  pretty  tough  battle,  I  expect.  I  couldn't 
name  the  winner,  nor  could  any  one  else,  I  expect." 

"  What  comes  after  that  ?  "  asked  Hill. 

"  Why,  after  that  comes  your  swimming  race,  Mr  Hill.  I 
expect  there'll  be  good  sport  for  that  too.  There's  eight  in 
for  that — six  of  you  Holmwood  gentlemen  and  two  of  our 
chaps — Joe  Raikes  and  Bill  Wigram." 


Tfie  Regatta.  245 

"  Are  they  dabs  at  it,  James  ?  "  asked  Burton. 

"Joe's  no  good,"  said  Gunn;  "but  t'other  man's  a  tough 
customer.  I  never  saw  a  fellow  swim  much  faster.  But 
Captain  Gurdon,  he  saw  him  swimming  one  day,  and  he  said 
his  man  would  collar  him,  for  all  his  strength  and  pluck.  If 
he'd  been  properly  taught,  he  said,  he'd  have  been  too  much 
for  his  pupil ;  but  as  'twas,  he  felt  pretty  sure  Bill  would  lose 
the  day." 

"  I  hope  he  may  be  right,  I'm  sure,"  said  Hill.  "  Well,  after 
the  heats  for  the  swimming  race,  I  suppose  comes  the  diving 
match  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  then  they  stop  an  hour  for  dinner.  After 
dinner  there's  the  final  race  for  the  four-oars,  then  the  duck 
hunt,  then  the  race  between  the  two  winners  of  the  swimming 
race,  and  last  of  all,  the  final  race  between  the  eight-oars." 

At  this  moment  a  loud  cheer  was  heard,  and  an  eight-oared 
boat  was  seen  rounding  the  lighthouse  rock  and  rowing 
leisurely  into  the  harbour. 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  asked  Cressingham. 

"  That,"  replied  Gunn,  looking  out  of  the  window  ;  "  Oh  ! 
that's  the  Wickfield  boat  at  last.  I  suppose  the  rain  kept 
them.  Yes,  there  they  are.  There's  young  Mr  Knyvett  steer- 
ing, and  Tom  and  Bill  Bowles  rowing  stroke  and  number  five. 
First-rate  oars  they  are,  and  their  boat  will  feel  'em.  We  beat 
the  Wickfield  last  year  by  a  boat's  length.  But  it  is  as  like  as 
not,  these  two  Bowles's  having  come  home,  will  make  all  the 
difference." 

"  Bowles,"  repeated  Cressingham.  "  Did  you  say  the  name 
of  the  fellow  rowing  stroke  in  that  boat  was  called  Bowles  ? 
and  the  one  at  number  five  too — his  name  is  Bowles,  is  it  ? 


246  Who  did  it  f 

Why,  Clem,  don't  you  remember  that  day  last  August  ?  Aren't 
these  fellows  the  same  ?  Why,  they  can't  have  been  deserters, 
to  be  sure  ?  " 

"  Didn't  you  hear  about  that,  sir  ?  "  asked  Gunn.  "  There's 
been  such  a  talk  about  that  business,  I  thought  every  one  had 
heard  it." 

"  What  business  ?  "  asked  Cressingham. 

"  About  the  two  Bowles's,  sir.  They're  most  respectable 
men.  Nobody  more  respected  in  Wickfield.  They're  the 
owners  as  well  as  captain  and  first  mate  of  the  Caroline,  a 
fine  brig  trading  for  coals  between  Wickfield  and  Newcastle. 
They'd  gone  to  Portsmouth  to  hire  a  few  more  hands,  when  they 
were  set  upon  by  a  press-gang,  and  carried  straight  aboard  the 
Enterprise,  which  was  lying  off  Curlew,  ready  to  sail  the  next 
day  to  Algiers.  They  told  the  first  lieutenant  who  they  were  ; 
but  he'd  been  earwigged  by  somebody — it  ain't  at  present 
known  quite  clearly  by  whom.  They  cut  up  rough,  and  he 
had  'em  put  in  irons.  But  they  managed  to  get  clear  some- 
how, and  went  back  to  Wickfield.  Some  people  say  they 
swam  the  whole  way,  but  I  don't  see  that's  possible." 

"  Well,"  said  Cressingham,  "  what  happened  when  they  got 
to  Wickfield?" 

"  Oh,  they  went  straight  to  lawyer  Knyvett,  and  he  wrote 
up  to  London  about  it.  An  officer  was  sent  down  to  inquire 
into  the  matter — I  daresay  you  remember  his  coming." 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,"  said  Hill ;  "  he  went  over  from  here  to 
Curlew  in  the  Betsy  Jane.  How  did  he  settle  the  matter?  " 

"He  said  the  Bowles's  papers  were  all  right,  and  their 
empressment  was  against  the  law,  and  the  first  lieutenant  of 
the  Enterprise  would  have  to  answer  for  his  refusal  to  listen  to 


The  Regatta.  247 

their  story,  when  he  came  home.  But  as  the  poor  gentleman 
was  killed  in  the  bombardment  of  Algiers,  I  suppose  that  will 
come  to  nothing." 

"  Wasn't  anything  done  to  the  officer  of  the  press-gang  ?  " 
asked  Burton. 

"  Well,  it  seemed  that  he  had  been  misled  by  a  man  named 
Carr,  a  fellow  who  had  been  a  crimp  and  a  money  lender,  and 
I  don't  know  what,  in  Portsmouth.  But  he'd  run  away  and 
couldn't  be  found.  So  it  ended  in  the  Bowles's  being  let  go 
free,  and  an  apology  and  some  compensation  made  them." 

"  Do  you  know  at  what  inn  here  they  put  up  ? "  inquired 
Burton. 

"  At  the  Anchor,  sir,  I  believe.  But  if  you  are  going  to  row 
in  the  umpire's  boat,  it's  time  you  changed  your  clothes.  The 
four-oars  will  start  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  now." 

Half-an-hour  afterwards  the  harbour  presented  a  really 
beautiful  spectacle,  Though  the  air  was  fresh  the  day  was 
deliciously  warm  and  bright.  Even  the  ladies  made  no  demur 
to  accompanying  their  male  relatives  and  friends  on  the  water. 
Light  boats,  rowing  some  two,  some  four  oars,  with  spectators 
sitting  in  their  sterns,  gleamed  up  and  down  the  course.  The 
headmaster's  family  filled  one  large  galley,  his  two  sons,  Mr 
Wilkes,  and  Mr  M'Donald  taking  the  oars,  while  the  Doctor 
himself  managed  the  steering  lines.  Colonel  Wilder,  Mr 
Carington  of  Horncombe,  Mr  Walton,  the  Vicar  of  Walescliff, 
and  many  others  occupied  boats  of  larger  or  smaller  size,  while 
along  the  shore  a  line  of  carriages  and  other  humbler  vehicles 
was  drawn  up,  enabling  such  spectators  as  were  unwilling  to 
venture  on  the  water  to  obtain  a  good  view  of  the  sport. 

Presently  the  umpire's  boat,  with  Burton  and  Cressingham 


248  Who  did  it  ? 

among  the  rowers,  and  Captain  Gurdon  sitting  beside  the 
steersman,  put  off,  the  four-oared  boats  took  their  places,  and 
the  signal  for  the  start  was  given. 

James  Gunn's  predictions  were  more  nearly  verified  than 
such  predictions  are  wont  to  be.  The  races  between  the  four- 
oars  attracted  but  little  notice.  The  yacht  race  was  at  once  a 
spirited  contest,  and  a  highly  attractive  spectacle.  In  the  first 
eight-oar  heat  between  Loggington  and  Walescliff  the  superi- 
ority of  the  latter  was  too  evident  from  the  first  to  cause  much 
interest  to  be  felt.  The  same  was  the  case  with  the  second 
struggle  between  Curlew  and  Horncombe,  in  which  the  former 
rowed  in  easy  victors  by  several  lengths.  The  third,  however, 
proved  a  complete  contrast  to  the  former  two.  For  more  than 
two-thirds  of  the  course  the  Wickfield  and  Haverport  crews 
were  almost  oar  and  oar,  and  it  was  only  in  the  last  few 
hundred  yards  that  the  determined  pluck  of  the  Wickfield  men, 
and  especially  of  their  gallant  stroke,  landed  them  the  winners 
by  little  more  than  a  single  boat's  length. 

The  cheers  of  the  partisans  of  Wickfield  had  hardly  died 
out  when  a  throng  of  spectators,  among  whom  the  Holmwood 
boys  were  especially  conspicuous,  were  seen  moving  down 
towards  a  flag-staff  erected  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the 
grand  stand.  This  was  the  starting  point  for  the  swimming 
races,  the  great  event  of  the  day  in  the  estimation  of  the  boys. 
There  were  to  be  two  heats,  and  four  competitors  in  each  heat. 
The  names  of  the  eight  entered  for  the  prize  were  written  on 
slips  of  paper  and  thrown  into  a  hat,  from  which  they  were 
picked  out  by  James  Gunn,  who  had  been  blindfolded  for  the 
occasion.  It  was  found  that  the  first  batch  was  to  consist  of 
Cressingham — who,  together  with  Wigram,  had  landed  to  take 


The  Regatta.  249 

their  parts  in  the  struggle,  leaving  the  umpire's  boat  with  six 
rowers  only — Taunton,  O'Toole,  and  Bill  Wigram,  and  the 
second  of  Hibbert,  Wright,  Hill,  and  Joe  Raikes. 

"  All  the  best  swimmers  are  in  the  first  lot,"  remarked  old 
Gunn  sotto  voct  to  Captain  Grimes,  as  they  proceeded  to  the 
starting  place  followed  by  a  crowd  of  boys.  "  Whoever  wins 
the  first  heat  is  pretty  safe  to  win  the  prize." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  that,  John,"  returned  the  Captain  in 
the  same  tone.  "All  the  four  in  the  first  heat  are  good 
swimmers,  and  three  of  'em  very  good,  and  in  the  second  lot 
three  of  'em  isn't  worth  very  much,  I  grant  you  that.  But  the 
fourth — he  that  Captain  Gurdon  has  been  training,  Wright  his 
name  is — is  as  good  a  hand  as  I've  seen  for  many  a  year  past. 
I  seen  him  last  Friday  going  over  the  course  with  the  Captain 
following  him  in  a  boat.  I've  never  seen  anything  prettier  than 
the  way  he  skimmed  through  the  water,  just  under  the  surface 
and  no  more.  Maybe  he  wont  win,  but  it  will  be  a  good 
swimmer  that  beats  him.  What  I  want  to  see  is  how  the  day 
will  go  betwixt  Will  Wigram  and  these  young  Priory  chaps. 
I've  never  seen  them  swimming  together.  Will  is  ever  so 
much  stronger  than  they  are — I  haven't  often  set  eyes  on  a 
finer  young  chap.  But  he  don't  swim  in  very  good  form.  His 
legs  are  too  low  in  the  water,  and  his  shoulders  too  high.  I 
am  curious  to  see  'em  matched." 

"  You'll  soon  have  your  wish,  Cap'en,"  said  Gunn.  "  They 
seem  to  be  all  but  ready  now.  Young  gentlemen,"  he  con- 
tinued, raising  his  voice,  "  you  understand,  I  suppose,  how  this 
start  is  managed.  Bill  Mullins  in  the  punt  there  takes  hold 
of  one  end  of  this  chain,  and  I  keep  a  grip  on  the  other.  You 
four — each  of  you  just  touches  the  chain  with  one  hand,  till  I 


250  Who  did  it? 

give  the  word.     Then  we  let  the  chain  drop,  and  you  goes  off 
as  fast  as  you  can." 

"  We  understand  well  enough,  old  boy,"  said  Taunton,  who, 
conspicuous  in  his  red  cap  and  tightly-fitting  red  drawers,  had 
contrived  to  job  himself  into  the  place  nearest  the  shore,  where 
he  knew  that  the  stream  did  not  run  so  strongly  as  somewhat 
further  out.  "  We  know  all  about  it.  It  doesn't  require  to 
be  a  Solomon  to  understand  how  it  is  managed.  Just  sheer  a 
little  further  off,  my  hearty,"  he  continued,  addressing  Wigram, 
who  occupied  the  next  place  to  him.  "  We  are  hardly  clear 
of  one  another,  and  if  we  foul  we  shall  simply  spoil  our  own 
game." 

"  Don't  ye  come  too  near  me  either,"  exclaimed  O'Toole, 
who  appeared  equipped  with  green  drawers  and  swimming  cap, 
the  colour  being  a  compliment,  as  he  expressed  it,  to  the 
Emerald  Island.  "  Ay,  that  will  do,  man.  We  couldn't  be 
better  than  that.  James,  ye  villain,  why  don't  ye  give  the 
word  ?  How  long  am  I  to  be  kept  here  like  a  fish  dangling 
on  to  a  night  line  ?  " 

"  I'm  quite  ready,  Mr  O'Toole,  if  the  others  are.  Now  then, 
gentlemen,  one,  two,  three,  off!  " 

Both  men  dropped  the  chain  as  he  spoke,  and  the  four 
swimmers  instantly  struck  out  with  all  their  force.  It  was 
some  little  time  before  they  were  fairly  away,  and  then  it  was 
seen  that  the  contest  was  likely  to  be  a  severe  one.  O'Toole 
had  fallen  a  yard  or  so  behind,  and  was  struggling  with  all  his 
strength  to  regain  his  position.  Cressingham  and  Taunton 
were  leading,  as  nearly  abreast  as  possible,  and  Wigram  was  a 
foot  or  two  behind.  In  this  order  they  reached  the  buoy 
moored  in  front  of  Grimes's  cottage,  and  passing  round  it, 


The  Regatta.  251 

commenced  the  swim  homewards,  having  now  the  tide  against 
them.  But  by  the  time  when  they  were  fairly  started  on  their 
return,  it  had  become  plain  to  all  that  the  palm  of  victory 
would  fall  to  either  Cressingham  or  Wigram. 

O'Toole  had  never  recovered  his  first  loss  of  distance,  and 
the  violence  of  his  exertions  soon  exhausted  him.  He  was 
now  fully  twenty  yards  behind,  and  though  he  continued  with 
unabated  courage  to  struggle  on,  it  was  evident  that  he  had 
not  the  slightest  chance  of  success. 

Taunton  had  kept  even  with  Cressingham,  a  few  feet  in  ad- 
vance of  Wigram,  until  the  buoy  was  reached.  But  he  did  not 
manoeuvre  the  turn  as  skilfully  as  his  adversaries,  losing  two 
or  three  yards  before  he  was  fairly  at  work  again.  The 
spectators  presently  became  aware  jthat  he  was  unable  to 
regain  his  place,  and  he  gradually  fell  further  astern. 

Cressingham  and  Wigram  both  contrived  to  clear  the 
buoy  quickly  and  skilfully,  the  former  still  keeping  a  lead  of 
a  few  feet.  But  they  were  now  swimming  against  tide,  and 
Wigram's  strength  began  to  tell.  He  reduced  the  distance 
between  himself  and  his  antagonist  slowly  but  surely.  The 
latter  strove  gallantly  to  maintain  his  position,  and  for  two- 
thirds  of  the  remaining  distance  was  still  slightly  in  advance. 
But  at  this  point  of  the  race,  even  the  Holmwood  boys  were 
obliged  to  admit  to  themselves  that  unless  some  accident 
should  occur,  the  young  fisherman  must  of  necessity  go  ahead. 
The  excitement  grew  every  moment  more  intense.  The 
swimmers  were  still  a  hundred  yards  from  the  grand  stand, 
when  the  shouts  of  the  delighted  Walescliffites  announced 
that  their  man  was  at  last  fairly  ahead,  and  was  gradually 
widening  the  interval  between  himself  and  his  rival.  Two 


252  Who  did  it? 

minutes  more  and   they  passed   the  winning   post,  Wigram 
having  a  lead  of  two  or  three  feet. 

The  vexation  of  the  boys  at  this  result  was  all  the  greater 
in  proportion  to  its  having  been,  almost  to  the  last  moment, 
unexpected.  For  years  past  the  swimming  race  had  been 
won  by  some  champion  from  Holmwood,  and  the  boys  had 
come  to  look  upon  it  as  a  thing  belonging  almost  exclusively 
to  themselves.  Once  or  twice  competitors  from  the  town  had 
entered  for  it,  but  it  was  considered  rather  a  saucy  thing  for 
them  to  do,  and  anyway  the  interlopers  had  always  hitherto 
been  ignominiously  defeated.  This  year,  more  particularly 
when  two  or  three  of  their  number  had  been  declared  by  old 
Gunn  to  be  more  than  ordinarily  good  swimmers,  it  was  most 
annoying.  To  be  sure  it  was  some  comfort  that  in  the 
second  heat,  not  only  Wright,  but  Hibbert  and  Hill  also,  had 
fairly  distanced  the  Walescliff  champion,  while  Wright  had 
outstripped  his  two  school-fellows,  apparently  without  exertion. 
But  then  the  race  had  taken  half  a  minute  longer  to  swim  than 
had  been  the  case  in  the  previous  heat,  and  that  did  not  look 
as  though  Wright  was  likely  to  win  the  day  against  the  re- 
doubted Wigram.  The  boys  clustered  together  on  the  shore,  too 
full  of  their  subject  to  take  much  note  of  even  the  diving  match, 
which  was  won  easily  enough  by  Hibbert,  who  did  due  credit 
to  Captain  Gurdon's  training,  satisfying  even  his  somewhat 
severe  requirements.  At  the  three  o'clock  dinner,  the  final  con- 
test between  Wright  and  Wigram  occupied  almost  exclusively 
the  conversation  of  the  boys. 

"  I'm  afraid  the  snobs  will  have  it  their  own  way,"  observed 
Taunton  to  Hill,  who  was  sitting  next  him.  "  That  fellow 
Wigram  is  a  perfect  Hercules  for  muscle,  and  can  hold  out 


The  Regatta.  253 

any  time  apparently.  I  don't  suppose  there  is  much  difference 
between  Cressingham  and  Wright.  The  only  time,  I  believe, 
that  they  ever  swam  against  one  another — at  the  regatta  last 
year — Cressingham  came  in  before  him." 

"  That's  true,"  answered  Hill ;  "  but  they  say  Wright  has 
improved  immensely  this  last  month,  and  old  Gurdon,  his 
trainer,  says  he  is  safe  to  win.  Certainly  he  went  ahead  of  all 
of  us  easily  enough.  And,  I  think,  Wigram  must  be  afraid  of 
him.  He  has  refused  to  row  any  more  in  the  umpire's 
boat,  for  fear  of  tiring  himself  before  the  race.  Harry  Wilder 
has  agreed  to  take  his  place." 

"  That  looks  well,"  said  Taunton ;  "and  I  should  certainly 
be  sorry  if  the  cup,  which  has  stood  on  a  bracket  in  the 
dining  hall  for  I  don't  know  how  many  years,  should  be 
carried  off,  to  be  exhibited,  it  may  be,  in  the  tap-room  at  the 
Anchor.  But,  I  say,  where  is  Burton  ?  " 

"  He  is  down  there,  close  to  the  door,"  returned  Hill. 
"  He  came  in  very  late.  I  think  I  saw  him  going  to  the 
Anchor,  as  soon  as  the  crew  of  the  umpire's  boat  had  landed. 
Well,  dinner  is  over  now.  What  is  the  first  race  to  come  off 
now?" 

"The  final  heat  for  the  four-oars,"  said  Hill,  "then  the 
duck  hunt,  then  the  match  between  Wright  and  Wigram,  and 
lastly,  the  decisive  race  between  the  winners  of  the  eight-oar 
heats,  Curlew,  Wickfield,  and  Walescliff." 

"  I  don't  care  for  anything  till  the  swimming  race,"  said 
Taunton.  "  The  last  heat  between  the  eight  will  be  worth 
seeing.  But  I  am  tired  of  the  duck  hunt,  and  the  four-oars  too." 

The  boys  in  general  seemed  to  share  his  opinion.  They 
hardly  troubled  themselves  to  leave  the  room  where  they 


254  Who  did  it  ? 

had  dined  to  see  the  four-oar  contest,  and  looked  rather 
listlessly  on  while  the  duck  hunt  was  in  progress,  notwith- 
standing that  in  former  years  it  had  been  a  great  source  of 
amusement  to  them,  and  this  year  the  hunt  was  unusually 
good.  But  when  it  was  concluded,  and  the  bell  rung  for  the 
decisive  heat  of  the  swimming  race,  a  very  different  state  of 
things  ensued.  Wright  was  followed  down  to  the  starting 
place  by  nearly  half  the  school,  and  when  he  and  his  burly 
antagonist  had  taken  their  places,  and  the  signal  for  starting 
was  given,  there  were  no  bounds  to  their  eagerness.  They 
ran  shouting  at  the  top  of  their  voices  along  the  shore,  pro- 
phesying every  moment  that  their  champion  would  go  ahead, 
or  .imploring  him  to  make  greater  exertions  for  the  honour  of 
the  school ;  while  the  sailors  and  fishermen  on  their  side 
were  almost  as  clamorous.  But  for  a  long  time  neither  party 
seemed  to  gain  advantage.  The  tartan  cap,  which  was 
Wright's  distinguishing  badge,  moved  on  in  almost  exactly 
the  same  line  with  the  rough  bare  locks  of  his  antagonist. 
They  reached  the  buoy  almost  at  the  same  moment,  and  swung 
lightly  round  it  without  advantage  to  either.  As  the  last  quarter 
of  a  mile  of  the  course  was  against  the  tide,  it  was  now  gene- 
rally thought  that  the  palm  would  fall  to  Wigram.  But  to  the 
boys'  unbounded  delight,  the  return  course  had  no  sooner  been 
entered  on  than  Wright  began  gradually,  and  to  all  appearance 
easily,  to  move  away  from  his  opponent.  Wigram  exerted 
his  great  strength  to  the  utmost ;  but  it  speedily  became  evi- 
dent, in  vain.  Lightly,  and  without  apparent  effort,  the 
Holmwood  champion  glided  along,  increasing  with  every 
minute  the  length  of  his  lead,  until  he  passed  the  judge's 
chair,  at  least  twenty  yards  in  advance  of  his  rival, 


"THE  HOLM  WOOD  CHAMPION  GLIDED  ALONG.' 


Page  254. 


The  Regatta.  255 

The  boys  were  now  in  a  state  of  the  utmost  satisfaction. 
Not  only  had  the  honour  of  the  school  been  fully  maintained, 
but  a  most  unexpected  and  glorious  victory  had  been  won ; 
and  cheer  after  cheer  testified  their  exultation.  They  were 
now  in  a  frame  of  mind  to  watch  with  interest  what  the 
spectators  generally  regarded  as  the  most  important  contest  of 
the  day — the  final  encounter  between  the  three  successful 
eight-oars,  Curlew,  Wickfield,  and  Walescliff.  This  was 
indeed  a  most  doubtful  matter.  All  three  crews  consisted  of 
strong  and  practised  oarsmen.  Curlew  was  thought  to  be 
slightly  inferior  to  the  two  others,  while  these  were  regarded 
as  so  nearly  matched,  that  it  was  thought  the  victory  would 
depend  on  the  choice  of  stations.  Nor  were  these  anticipa- 
tions without  foundation.  Unluckily  the  toss  was  won  by 
Wickfield,  who  took  their  place  under  the  shelter  of  the  high 
cliffs  which  guarded  the  harbour,  while  Walescliff  had  to  breast 
the  full  force  of  the  stream.  After  maintaining  a  most  gallant 
struggle,  oar  and  oar  with  their  adversaries  for  two-thirds  of 
the  distance,  the  Walescliff  champions  were  at  last  left  in  the 
rear,  and  rowed  in  about  a  boat's  length  astern  of  the  victors, 
the  Curlew  boat  following  several  lengths  behind. 

The  victors  stepped  ashore  to  receive  the  congratulations  of 
their  friends,  and  the  umpires'  boat  almost  at  the  same  moment 
came  alongside  the  landing-place.  Then  Burton  sprang  out 
and  hurried  up  to  the  steersman  of  the  winning  crew,  whom 
he  tapped  on  the  shoulder. 

"  Frank,"  he  whispered  in  his  ear,  "  I  have  been  trying  to 
come  to  speak  with  you  all  day,  but  I  couldn't  catch  you.  I 
want  so  much  to  have  a  talk  with  you." 

"  I  have  been  looking  after  you,  Burton ;  but  I  could  not 


256  Who  did  it? 

get  away  till  the  race  was  over.  Come  into  this  booth  here. 
It  is  quite  empty.  I  suppose  you  want  to  inquire  about  George?" 

"Yes,"  responded  Burton,  "have  you  any  letter  for  me? 
He  is  afraid,  I  know,  to  write  directly  to  me,  because  his 
handwriting  might  be  recognised,  and  the  post-mark  shew 
where  he  is.  But  he  promised  to  write  under  cover  to  you." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  have  no  letter  for  you.  I  have  heard 
— heard  only  this  morning.  But  his  letter  is  about  his  own 
affairs.  He  only  tells  me  to  remember  him  most  kindly  to 
you." 

"  He  makes  no  answer  to  my  request?"  asked  Burton. 

"  He  does  not  notice  it.  I  think  he  cannot  have  had  your 
letters,  though  I  forwarded  them  immediately,  or  perhaps  one 
of  his  letters  to  me  may  have  miscarried." 

"  It  puts  me  into  a  most  awkward  fix,"  said  Burton.  "  I 
really  do  not  know  what  to  do.  You  are  sure  of  George's 
address  now,  are  you?" 

"  I  know,  of  course,  where  he  writes  from,  but  he  will  make 
no  stay  there.  He  gives  me  the  address,  however,  to  which  I 
am  now  to  write.  If  you  have  any  message  to  send,  I  will 
take  charge  of  it.  I  shall  write  as  soon  as  I  get  home." 

"Very  well,  Frank.  If  you  will  come  up  with  me  to  the 
Anchor  I  will  write  a  few  lines  for  you  to  enclose,  and  please 
the  moment  you  hear  anything  from  him,  let  me  know  it." 

"  I  promise  you  most  faithfully  I  will,  Clement.  Let  us  go 
up  to  the  Anchor  at  once." 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE    FOOTBALL    MATCH. 

Six  or  seven  more  weeks  had  passed.  The  autumn  was  fast 
passing  into  winter,  and  the  Holmwood  boys  had  long  since 
begun  their  football  season.  Nothing  of  any  consequence  had 
taken  place  since  the  day  of  the  regatta.  Captain  Gurdon 
had  never  been  able  to  discover  anything  to  substantiate  the 
charge  which  he  was  anxious  to  make  against  Stephen  Graves; 
nor,  to  all  appearance,  had  the  constables  succeeded  in  throw- 
ing any  light  on  the  mystery  of  poor  Neptune's  death.  The 
boys  were  beginning  to  believe  that  they  had  heard  the  last  of 
the  matter,  and  it  was  gradually  ceasing  to  form  a  topic  of 
conversation  among  themselves.  The  competition  for  the 
Hawley  prize,  however,  seemed  to  excite  the  greatest  interest 
The  reader  is  aware  that  almost  to  the  day  of  the  regatta, 
although  Temple  and  Graves  had  both  of  them  gained  con- 
siderably upon  Burton,  the  distance  between  him  and  them 
was  so  great,  that  there  appeared  but  little  prospect  of  their 
overtaking  him.  The  discovery  made  by  Wright  and  Win- 
burne  as  to  the  state  of  the  register  up  to  that  date,  had  some- 
how or  other  transpired  in  the  school,  though  it  was  not 
known  how  the  discovery  had  been  made,  and  the  general 


258  Who  did  it? 

impression  in  consequence  was  that  Burton  would  win  after 
all.  But  from  the  day  of  the  regatta  there  was  a  marked 
change  in  the  aspect  of  things.  Burton  had  up  to  that  time 
been  doing  his  school  work,  if  not  brilliantly,  at  least  tolerably 
well.  Temple  and  Graves  might  gain  seven  or  eight  marks 
upon  him  in  the  course  of  the  week,  but  never  more,  and  on 
an  average  not  so  much.  But  after  the  day  of  the  regatta  a 
change  had  seemed  to  come  over  him.  His  compositions, 
which  had  always  been  good,  and  sometimes  merited  a  higher 
epithet,  became  so  mediocre  as  to  obtain  very  few  marks,  and 
his  lessons  fell  off  in  the  same  manner.  His  two  adversaries, 
who  continued  to  exert  themselves  as  determinedly  as  ever, 
were  now  plainly  and  rapidly  diminishing  the  distance  between 
them  and  him.  Once  more  the  opinion  began  to  grow  up  in 
the  school,  that  in  the  long  run  he  would  be  found  to  be 
number  three,  instead  of  number  one.  Doctor  Thornton 
appeared  to  be  as  much  surprised  as  anybody  at  the  turn 
which  things  were  taking.  Mr  Hepburn,  who  was  not  only 
perplexed  but  a  good  deal  annoyed,  once  or  twice  said  a  few 
words  to  Burton  on  the  subject,  but  the  boy  received  them 
in  a  manner,  which  made  it  difficult  for  him  to  say  anything 
further. 

The  masters,  however,  were  not  the  only  persons  who  saw 
the  progress  of  things  with  dissatisfaction.  One  day,  late  in 
November,  Cressingham  came  to  the  resolution  of  remon- 
strating seriously  with  his  friend.  The  two  boys  had  always, 
to  some  extent,  been  friends,  and  since  Alford's  departure,  a 
close  intimacy  had  grown  up  between  them.  If  Burton  would 
listen  to  an  appeal  from  any  one,  it  would  be  from  Cressingham. 
Aware  of  this,  Hill  and  Lander  had  requested  Fred  to  speak 


The  Football  Match.  259 

to  Burton  in  behalf  of  them  all,  and  Dr  Thornton  himself 
had  also  hinted  as  much  a  day  or  two  before.  Cressingham 
felt  that  the  present  day  would  be  a  suitable  one  for  carrying 
out  his  purpose.  There  was  to  be  a  football  match  between 
the  Holmwood  boys  and  those  belonging  to  a  large  school  at 
Haverport.  Neither  Cressingham  nor  Burton  were  to  play. 
The  latter  had  excused  himself  on  the  simple  grounds  that  he 
would  rather  not  take  part  in  the  match,  and  Cressingham 
had  hurt  his  hand  a  few  days  previously,  which  precluded 
him  from  playing.  The  match  was  to  take  place  in  the  cricket 
field,  and  the  two  boys  had  taken  their  places  in  the  balcony, 
in  front  of  the  cricket  pavilion — a  place  which  none  but  first 
class  boys  were  allowed  to  enter.  As  all  the  other  seniors 
were  engaged  in  the  match,  the  two  friends  had  the  balcony 
to  themselves,  and  could  talk  without  interruption  from  any. 

It  was  a  bright,  clear  November  day.  The  Haverport  lads, 
eighteen  in  number,  who  had  come  over  in  an  old  stage  coach, 
hired  for  the  occasion,  made  their  appearance  a  little  after  ten 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  the  play  was  to  begin  about 
eleven.  Various  reports  of  their  prowess,  size,  and  strength 
had  reached  WalesclifF,  and  roused  the  spirit  of  the  school  to 
a  greater  pitch  than  ordinary.  A  football  match  in  those  days 
was  not  the  elaborate  and  artistic  affair  which  it  has  been  made 
in  recent  times.  It  consisted,  in  fact,  in  little  more  than  in 
marshalling  two  hosts,  supposed  to  be  equally  endowed  with 
skill  and  strength,  in  an  enclosed  ground,  with  a  goal  at  either 
end,  throwing  a  football  into  the  midst  before  them,  and  allow- 
ing them  to  kick  it  hither  and  thither  as  they  pleased.  The 
minute  and  stringent  rules,  originating  with  one  public  school 
or  another,  and  formed  into  a  regular  system  by  football  asso- 


260  Who  did  it  ? 

ciations,  had  in  those  days  no  existence.  "Scrimmages"  and 
"hots,"  "back  players,"  and  "bull-dogs,"  and  "skirmishes," 
"  dribbling "  and  "  touching,"  were  things  as  yet  undreamed 
of.  If  the  ball  was  kicked,  no  matter  how,  beyond  the  goal 
of  the  one  party,  it  was  scored  as  a  victory  for  the  other. 
Then  it  was  brought  back,  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  ground 
again,  and  the  contest  was  renewed  as  before.  There  was 
less  artistic  skill,  no  doubt ;  but  it  may  be  a  question  whether 
there  was  not  just  as  good  fun  as  in  the  present  day. 

At  all  events,  neither  the  Holmwood  nor  the  Haverport  team 
thought  that  any  code  of  laws  was  necessary  to  their  enjoy- 
ment. By  eleven  o'clock  they  were  all  stripped  to  their 
jerseys,  trousers,  and  highlows ;  these,  with  a  handkerchief 
tied  round  the  waist,  constituting  the  whole  of  their  football 
toilet.  The  combatants  were  drawn  up  in  two  long  lines,  equi- 
distant from  the  central  point  of  the  field  in  which  the  ball  had 
been  placed,  some  three  or  four  minutesbeforethehour  of  eleven. 
As  soon  as  the  minute-hand  reached  the  figure  of  twelve  on 
the  umpire's  watch,  he  shouted  aloud,  "  Play,"  and  the  whole 
thirty-six  players  swept  simultaneously  down  on  the  ball. 

The  play  at  first  was  tolerably  even.  Both  parties  consisted 
of  schoolboys  of  seventeen  and  eighteen,  in  the  very  prime  and 
flower  of  their  years — active,  inaccessible  to  fatigue,  and  in- 
exhaustible in  energy,  as  seventeen  and  eighteen  alone  can  be. 
The  ball  flew  hither  and  thither,  driven  a  few  feet  in  one  direc- 
tion and  then  driven  back  again ;  now  flying  over  the  heads 
of  the  one  party,  and  anon  caught  and  sent  spinning  through 
the  air  in  the  opposite  direction ;  sometimes  buried  under  a 
heap  of  players,  who  had  tumbled  over  one  another  like  clowns 
in  a  circus,  and  then  exhumed  by  some  nimble-footed  cham- 


The  Football  Match.  261 

pion,  who  would  carry  it  before  him  for  a  few  yards  until  he 
was  tripped  up  by  another  as  nimble,  to  fall  prostrate  on 
mother  earth,  and  arise  again  one  mass  of  muck  and  mud,  but 
in  nowise  daunted. 

Burton  and  Cressingham  stood  awhile  looking  on  in  silence ; 
but  neither  of  them  was  absorbed  by  the  interest  of  the  game. 
Burton's  thoughts  apparently  were  far  away,  as  had  been  gene- 
rally the  case  with  him  for  some  weeks  past ;  and  Cressingham 
was  thinking  how  he  might  best  introduce  the  subject  which 
he  had  resolved  to  broach  with  Burton.  At  length  his  atten- 
tion was  attracted  by  a  loud  shout  of  "Graves!  Graves!" 
"bravo,  Stephen  !"  He  looked,  and  perceived  that  his  school- 
fellow had  contrived  to  force  his  way  through  the  throng  of 
his  opponents,  carrying  the  ball  before  him,  and  overthrowing 
champion  after  champion  of  the  Haverports,  until  he  had  fairly 
forced  it  through  the  Haverport  goal,  and  one  was  scored  to 
his  side  in  consequence. 

"  Graves  is  playing  well  to-day,  Clem,"  he  remarked;  "  bet- 
ter, I  think,  than  Charlie  Temple,  who  is  generally  thought  to 
be  our  best  player.  They  are  two  strange  fellows  those, 
Clem." 

"  Graves  and  Temple,"  repeated  Burton,  absently.  "  Yes. 
they  are  both  of  them  clever  fellows.  They  seem  to  be  able 
to  do  pretty  well  anything  they  like." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  Clem.  I  think  they  are  allowed 
sometimes  to  do  things,  because  other  fellows  don't  prevent 
them,  who  might  if  they  liked, — things  which,  to  my  mind, 
they  oughtn't  to  be  allowed  to  do !" 

"  As  what,  Fred?"  asked  Burton,  turningrshort  round  on  his 
companion.  "  I  am  not  sure  that  I  understand  you." 


262  Who  did  it  ? 

"  I  think  you  must,  Clem.  One  of  the  things  they  are  doing 
is  getting  before  you  in  the  register  of  marks.  I  don't  think 
they  ought  to  be  allowed  to  do  that ! " 

"Who  allows  them?"  asked  Burton,  his  brown  cheek  glow- 
ing crimson  as  he  spoke. 

"  Well,  Clem,  don't  be  angry  if  I  speak  the  truth.  You  are 
allowing  them,  and  they  couldn't  do  it  if  you  did  not  allow 
them." 

At  this  moment  their  attention  was  attracted  by  a  loud  shout 
from  the  spectators.  One  of  the  Haverport  players — a  tall, 
powerful  fellow — had  succeeded  in  forcing  the  ball  away 
through  a  knot  of  his  opponents,  who  were  gathered  about  it, 
and  driving  it  by  straight  kicks  to  the  Holmwood  end  of  the 
field.  First  Rawes  and  then  Lander  had  thrown  themselves 
in  his  way,  but  had  failed  to  stop  him — the  former  being 
thrown  on  one  side,  and  the  other  laid  flat  on  the  field.  The 
victorious  champion  still  continued  his  course,  amid  the 
vociferous  applause  of  his  partisans.  The  Holmwood  players 
rushed  after  him  in  vain.  Graves  was  too  far  behind  to  render 
any  help.  There  was  no  one  between  the  Haverport  player 
and  the  Holmwood  goal  except  Temple,  and  he  was  too  light 
a  weight  to  encounter  such  an  antagonist  with  any  success. 
All  hope  of  averting  the  disaster  seemed  lost.  But  Temple's 
extraordinary  lightness  of  foot  enabled  him  to  reach  the  ball 
a  second  or  so  before  his  rival,  and  to  drive  it  by  a  side  kick 
out  of  the  other's  reach,  when  it  was  caught  by  some  of  the 
Holmwood  players,  and  kicked  back  again. 

Burton  and  Cressingham  looked  on  while  this  was  passing, 
too  much  interested  to  continue  their  conversation  until 
it  was  over.  Burton  would  fain  have  taken  the  opportunity 


The  Football  Match.  263 

or  letting  it  drop  altogether,  but  Cressingham  was  resolved  to 
persist. 

"To  go  on  with  what  I  was  saying,  Clem.  You  asked 
who  it  was  that  allowed  Temple  and  Graves  to  go  ahead  of 
you  in  the  register  of  marks.  I  repeat  there  is  only  one 
person  that  allows  it,  and  that  is  yourself.  I  add,  there  is  also 
only  one  person  who  could  prevent  it,  and  that  person  also  is 
yourself." 

"What  makes  you  think  that?"  asked  his  school-fellow, 
doggedly. 

"What  makes  me  think  it?"  rejoined  Cressingham.  "Why, 
my  own  common  sense.  Look  here.  You  and  I,  Clem,  have 
gone  through  the  school  together.  We  have  been  in  the  same 
class  for  four  years  past.  I  never  knew  you  all  that  time  fail 
to  get  a  heap  of  marks  every  week  for  your  school  work.  But 
ever  since  this  Hawley  prize  was  announced,  you  have  been 
falling  off.  For  the  first  three  or  four  weeks  you  did  get 
something  like  your  former  average,  while  these  fellows  got  at 
least  twice  the  amount  they  had  been  getting  before — " 

"  Surely  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  number  of  marks 
which  Graves  and  Temple  get,"  interrupted  Burton. 

"  Of  course  I  know  that,  Clem ;  and  if  you  had  done  as 
well  as  you  usually  did,  I  shouldn't  at  all  have  wondered  at 
their  gaining  on  you.  They  are,  both  of  them,  extremely 
clever  fellows,  and  they  have  been  working  in  a  manner  they 
never  did  before,  ever  since  the  day  when  notice  was  given  of 
this  Hawley  prize.  I  am  certainly  surprised  at  the  determined 
manner  in  which  they  have  persisted  in  their  work,  but  it  has 
been  all  plain  sailing  so  far  as  they  are  concerned.  It  is  of 
you  and  your  doings  that  I  speak." 


264  Who  did  it  ? 

He  paused,  but  his  friend  was  silent,  and  he  went  on.  "I 
can  of  course  guess  your  motive.  You  think  it  is  all  important 
to  them — to  one  of  them,  that  is — to  get  this  prize,  and  you 
are  resolved  to  let  him  get  it,  so  far,  that  is,  as  you  are  con- 
cerned. Can  you,  yourself,  deny  that  is  the  simple  explana- 
tion of  your  failure  ?  " 

Burton  was  still  silent.  His  companion  after  looking  some- 
time wistfully  in  his  face,  began  once  more.  "  It's  very 
generous,  Clem,  it's  like  you.  But  I  think  you  oughtn't  to 
do  it.  All  of  us,  all  your  friends,  think  you  oughtn't.  In  the 
first  place,  it  isn't  fair  to  yourself.  You  mean  to  go  to  the 
University,  don't  you?" 

"  I  believe  my  aunt  means  to  send  me  there,"  said  Burton. 

"  Just  so,  and  I  have  often  heard  you  say  that  you  didn't 
like  being  dependent  on  your  aunt,  and  you  wished  you  could 
do  something  for  yourself— :at  least,  I  think  I've  heard  you 
say  so." 

He  looked  interrogatively  at  his  friend. 

"  Yes,  Fred,"  said  Burton,  reluctantly,  "  I  have  no  doubt 
you  have  often  heard  me  say  so.  It  is  certainly  the  fact." 

"Well,  then,  why  should  you  prefer  these  two  fellows, 
Graves  and  Temple — why  should  you  prefer  them  to  your 
aunt  in  this  way  ?  Why  sacrifice  your  aunt,  not  to  say  your- 
self, to  them  ?  What  claim  can  they  have  upon  you,  like  that 
of  your  own  nearest  relative  ?  Why  are  you  to  miss  the  prize, 
which  everybody  knows  ought  to  be  yours?  And  besides 
that,  neither  of  these  fellows  deserve  any  consideration  at  your 
hands.  If  there  had  been  a  good  fellow,  like  Hill,  in  the  way, 
whom  every  one  would  like  to  help ;  or  a  poor  fellow  like 
Lander,  whose  father,  it  is  well  known,  can't  pay  his  son's 


The  Football  Match.  265 

school  bills,  and  who  is  allowed  by  the  Doctor  to  stay  here  out 
of  sheer  kindness,  it  might  be  a  different  thing.  But  here's  this 
fellow  Graves  rolling  in  riches.  It  is  well  known  that  he  only 
wants  to  gain  this  Hawley  prize  in  order  to  buy  a  new  gun 
with  the  money.  And  here  again  is  Temple — " 

He  was  again  interrupted  by  a  louder  cry  than  before  from 
the  field.  Haverport  had  been  getting  the  best  of  it  for  some 
time  past,  and  had  kicked  one  or  two  goals  in  advance  of 
their  opponents.  But  the  Holmwood  players  had  made  a 
determined  attempt  to  stem  the  current  of  misfortune,  and  had 
so  far  succeeded  that  they  had  carried  the  ball  into  the  middle 
of  the  ground  again,  where  a  desperate  encounter  was  going 
on.  Hickson,  the  tall  Haverport  champion — of  whom  mention 
has  been  made — on  the  one  side,  and  Stephen  Graves  on  the 
other,  had  rushed  up  to  the  rescue,  and  met  in  the  centre  of 
the  field  with  a  force  which  threw  them  both  backwards,  so 
sorely  shaken  that  they  were  unable  for  the  moment  to  rise, 
while  Charlie  Temple,  skilfully  catching  the  ball  with  his  foot, 
as  it  flew  on  one  side,  drove  it  onward  with  a  series  of  kicks 
until  it  was  driven  past  the  Haverport  goal,  and  one  was 
scored  by  his  side.  "  Bravo,  Temple,"  "  Well  done,  Temple," 
was  the  cry  of  the  delighted  boys. 

"  Bravo,  Temple,  say  I,"  continued  Cressingham.  "  He  is 
as  clever  as  good  tempered,  and  as  amusing  a  fellow  as  ever 
came  to  Holmwood  !  But  he  doesn't  deserve  that  you  should 
give  up  your  right  and  neglect  your  work  for  him,  not  to  speak 
of  injuring  your  relatives  and  disappointing  your  friends.  I 
know  his  circumstances  are  altogether  different  from  those  of 
Graves.  I  don't  suppose  his  case  is  as  bad  as  Geoff.  Lander's, 
but  no  doubt  he  really  wants  the  Hawley  money.  But  he 


266  IV ho  did  it? 

oughtn't  to  have  it  Even  if  he  were  fairly  at  the  top  of  the 
register  he  oughtn't  to  have  it." 

"Why  not,  Fred?"  inquired  Burton. 

"  Why  not  ?  you  know  why  not — because  he  killed  poor 
old  Nep." 

"  Who  knows  that  he  did  that?  "  rejoined  Burton.  "  That 
has  never  been  proved.  The  charge  has  been  dropped  be- 
cause it  couldn't  be  proved." 

"  It  has  never  been  proved,  Clem,  chiefly  because  you  and 
I  have  never  told  what  we  knew.  But  if  we  had,  do  you 
think  there  could  have  been  much  doubt  on  the  subject  ?  If 
it  had  been  known  that,  not  only  did  he  want  to  go  out  that 
night — for  some  reason  that  has  never  been  explained — but 
that  he,  and  he  only,  knew  of  that  secret  passage  by  which  a 
fellow  could  get  out  at  night  after  the  gates  had  been  locked, 
wouldn't  the  thing  soon  have  been  made  clear  then  ?  I  don't 
say  it  would  have  been  proof  enough  in  itself  sufficient  to  con- 
vict him,  but  it  would  have  set  Baines  on  his  track,  and  he 
would  soon  have  followed  it  out." 

"  You  are  convinced  then,  Fred,  that  Temple  did  it  ?  "  said 
Burton. 

"  Yes,  Clem,"  returned  Cressingham,  "  and  so  are  you  in 
your  heart.  See  here — every  one  knows  that  Temple  was 
determined  to  shoot  that  match  with  Graves ;  many  fellows 
further  know  that  he  had  asked  Harry  Wilder,  the  day  before 
the  match  —the  very  day  on  which  Nep  was  killed,  to  lend 
him  a  pistol.  Harry  Wilder,  with  the  pistol-case  in  his  hand, 
was  seen  talking  to  him  just  before  lock-up.  But  Temple  was 
late,  and  Tom  Cobbe  was  waiting  at  the  gate  to  lock  it,  before 
he  parted  with  Wilder.  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  bring 


The  Football  Match.  267 

the  pistol-case  in  then.  Who  can  doubt  that  it  was  agreed 
between  them  that  Wilder  should  bring  the  pistols  after 
dark,  and  that  Temple  wanted  to  go  out  in  order  to  fetch 
them  ?  " 

"  He  may  have  wanted  to  go  out,"  rejoined  Burton,  "  but 
that  is  no  proof  that  he  did  go  out." 

"  It's  no  positive  proof,  of  course,"  said  Cressingham,  "  nor 
did  anybody,  so  far  as  I  know,  see  Temple  lift  the  bar  in  the 
hall  window  after  we  were  gone  to  bed,  or  creep  out  through 
the  secret  passage.  But  be  sure  he  did,  and  old  Nep,  whom 
he  did  not  know  to  be  loose,  followed  him " 

"Just  so,"  broke  in  Burton,  "nobody  saw  him,  therefore 
nobody  knows  that  he  really  did  do  it.  And  nobody  has  a 
right  to  say  that  he  did  it/' 

"  Perhaps  no  one  may  have  a  right  to  say  it,"  said  Cressing- 
ham, "  but  they  have  a  right  to  their  own  thoughts,  and  you 
cannot  but  think  him  guilty.  Any  how,  if  the  Doctor  knew 
that  he  was  in  the  habit  of  getting  out  that  secret  way,  he  would 
never  let  him  have  this  Hawley  prize.  You  must  allow  that. 
Why,  Clem,  he'd  expel  any  one  he  caught  doing  that — expel 
him  without  more  words  about  it !  " 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  worry  me  about  this,"  said  Burton, 
wearily.  "  I  don't  think  you  have  a  right  to  assume  any  of 
the  things  you  have  been  claiming  to  know.  It  is  only  your 
guess  that  I  am  not  doing  my  best,  and  I  don't  mind  telling 
you  that,  in  the  main,  you  are  wrong  about  that.  There's 
been  a  good  deal  to  bother  and  annoy  me  lately,  and  I  don't 
feel  up  to  much.  It's  only  your  guess,  again,  that  Temple  went 
out  after  we'd  gone  to  bed,  much  less  that  he  crept  through 
that  hole,  and  poor  old  Nep  after  him.  Guesses,  to  my  mind, 


268  Who  did  it  ? 

don't  go  for  anything,  and — and — and  don't  be  angry  with  me, 
Fred,"  he  added,  suddenly  changing  his  manner  and  holding 
out  his  hand  ;  "  I  know  you  mean  it  all  as  kindly  as  possible, 
like  the  friend  you  always  are  and  have  been.  But  don't  go 
on  with  this.  It  won't  do  any  one  any  good." 

Cressingham  shook  his  friend's  hand,  and  might  have  added 
some  more,  but  at  this  moment  the  voice  of  the  umpire  was 
heard  announcing  that  the  hour  was  up,  and  the  game  con- 
cluded.    It  had  been  a  very  close  and  interesting  match. 
Haverport  had  kicked  nine  goals  and  Holmwood  ten ;  and 
this  result,  while  it  put  the  Holmwood  lads  in  high  spirits, 
did  not  depress  the  other  party.     Mutual  compliments  were 
exchanged  between  the  two  headmasters,  as  well  as  between 
the  two  rival  teams,  and  arrangements  made  for  the  return 
match  to  take  place  some  day  towards  the  middle  of  Decem- 
ber.    After  partaking  of  supper,  the  Haverport  lads  took  their 
departure,   well   pleased  with   their  day's  sport ;    and   their 
opponents,  crowding  into  the  school-room,  began  to  discuss 
another  topic,  which  the  football  match  had  hitherto  kept  in 
the  background.  This  was  the  programme  to  be  adopted  on  the 
occasion  of  the  headmaster's  birthday,  the  only  whole  holi- 
day which  occurred  throughout  the  whole  of  the  winter  half- 
year.     The  birthday  itself  was  the  tenth  of  December,  but  it 
was  always  kept  on  the  Wednesday  nearest  to  that  day,  and 
this  year  the  day  for  its  observance  would  be  the  thirteenth. 
It  happened  opportunely  that  the  hounds  were  to  meet  on  that 
day  at  Darlaston  Hall — the  seat  of  Squire  Wolford,  who  was 
a  very  popular  personage,  not  only  with  the  boys,  to  whom  he 
always  shewed  kindness,  but  with  the  neighbourhood  generally. 
Like  Squire  Hawley,  he  had  once  been  the  pupil   of  Dr 


TJte  Football  Match.  269 

Thornton's  father,  and  the  schoolfellow  of  the  Doctor  him- 
self, and  he  was  wont  to  welcome  most  hospitably  such  of 
the  boys  as  the  headmaster,  on  rare  occasions,  allowed  to  visit 
him. 

On  the  present  occasion  it  was  hoped  that  the  first-class, 
and  possibly  the  second  also,  might  be  allowed  to  attend  the 
hunt  breakfast,  if  Mr  Hepburn,  or  haply  the  Doctor  himself, 
could  be  prevailed  on  to  escort  them  thither.  In  any  case 
Graves,  whose  guardian  and  sister  were  to  be  present,  and 
Taunton,  whose  father  was  master  of  the  hounds,  would  be 
sure  to  obtain  permission,  and  if  they  were  to  be  allowed  to  go, 
and  the  Squire  was  willing  to  have  a  dozen  more,  why  shouldn't 
they  go  too  ?  The  only  difficulty  lay  in  the  numbers.  There 
were  ten  first-class  boys  and  twelve  second.  This  was  too 
large  a  party  for  even  Squire  Wolford  to  entertain.  But  pre- 
sently it  was  discovered  that  a  good  many  would  be  prevented 
by  one  reason  or  another  from  being  present.  Burton  declared 
that  he  should  prefer  staying  at  home.  He  assigned  no  reason, 
but  simply  stated  the  fact  Cressingham  had  a  sick  headache 
and  was  indisposed  for  any  amusement.  Field  had  been  sent 
for  home,  and  two  of  the  second-class  had  sustained  so  much 
damage  in  the  football  match  that  they  could  not  walk  the 
distance  to  Darlaston.  Besides  this  it  was  found  that  Captain 
Gurdon  had  invited  five  of  the  first-class  to  join  him  in  an  ex- 
pedition to  the  Witherne  Caves,  and  dine  at  an  adjoining 
farmhouse.  In  this  manner  the  total  of  the  first  two  classes 
would  be  reduced  to  twelve  or  so,  and  that  was  not  a  larger 
number  than  had  gone  over  to  Darlaston  on  previous  occasions. 

Captain  Gurdon's  invitation  had  been  given  to  Wright  and 
Winburne  a  day  or  two  previously. 


2/o  Who  did  it  ? 

"  It's  much  too  late  in  the  year  for  a  water  party,  my  lads/ 
he  had  said,  "  and  no  doubt  the  pleasantest  mode  of  going  to 
the  Caves  is  by  water ;  but  I  should  like  to  show  them  to  you, 
and  we  may  not  have  another  opportunity.  We  can  have  the 
large  two-horse  fly  from  the  King's  Arms,  dine  at  Barnard's  in 
the  middle  of  the  day,  and  come  back  to  supper  at  my  house. 
What  do  you  boys  say  to  it  ?  " 

"  I  say,  sir,"  said  Wright,  to  whom  the  question  was  more 
immediately  addressed,  "that  I  am  very  much  obliged,  and 
should  enjoy  going  very  much,  and  so  I  have  no  doubt  would 
the  others  be,  whom  you  are  kind  enough  to  ask.  How  many, 
and  who  are  they  ?  " 

"  There  can  be  only  five,  I  am  afraid,"  replied  the  Captain. 
"  If  it  were  the  summer  or  the  autumn,  it  would  be  a  different 
matter.  We  could  go  in  a  boat  which  would  hold  a  dozen ; 
but  the  fly  wouldn't  have  room  for  more  than  the  number  I 
named.  I  could  drive  it,  to  be  sure,  and  one  could  sit  by  me 
on  the  box  ;  but  you  could  hardly  cram  more  than  four  inside. 
No ;  five  must  be  the  number,  and  those  had  better  be  Tem- 
ple, Winburne,  Hibbert,  Warner,  and  yourself." 

"  We  should  all  like  that  very  much,  sir,  I  am  sure,"  said 
Winburne.  "  Do  you  wish  George  and  myself  to  speak  to  the 
others,  or  will  you  invite  them  yourself?  " 

"  I  shall  be  away  to-morrow,"  said  Captain  Gurdon,  "  and 
they  might  make  some  other  arrangements  if  they  weren't 
asked  pretty  soon.  I  think  you  had  better  give  them  the 
invitation  in  my  name." 

Wright  had  accordingly  propounded  the  matter  to  his 
schoolfellows,  all  of  whom  eagerly  caught  at  the  notion,  with 
the  exception  of  Temple,  who  replied  that  he  was  greatly 


The  Football  Match.  271 

obliged  to  Captain  Gurdon  for  his  kindness,  but  he  had  taken 
one  holiday  in  order  to  play  the  football  match  with  the  Haver- 
ports,  and  he  could  not  afford  himself  another. 

"  Oh,  Charlie,  do  come !  "  Wright  had  said.  "  It  will  be 
such  jolly  fun.  The  Witherae  Caves  belong  to  LordWandes- 
borough,  you  know,  and  he  will  only  admit  people  by  ticket 
to  see  them,  and  old  Grimes  says  it  isn't  at  all  an  easy  thing 
to  get  tickets  for  it  now.  Then  the  old  Captain  is  sure  to  give 
us  a  splendid  lunch,  and  supper  too.  The  Barnards,  who  live 
at  Witherne  Farm,  close  by,  are  old  friends  of  his.  Joe  Bar- 
nard was  a  quartermaster  on  board  his  ship,  I  believe.  We 
are  to  have  the  lunch  at  his  house,  and  the  Captain  means  to 
send  over  a  lot  of  things  besides — fish  and  game  and  two 
bottles  of  champagne,  and  I  don't  know  what.  Do  come, 
Charlie ;  it  will  be  glorious  fun  ! " 

"  I  daresay  you'll  think  me  very  obstinate,  George,"  said 
Temple ;  "  but  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  wouldn't  strike  work 
again  until  this  Hawley  Exhibition  is  decided." 

"  But,  Charlie,"  said  Winburne,  "  Graves  is  one  of  those 
going  over  to  Darlaston.  He  is  going  to  my  certain  know- 
ledge ;  so  you  won't  lose  anything  that  he  won't  lose  too.  As 
for  Burton,  you  needn't  mind  him,  at  all  events." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ?  "  asked  Temple,  anxiously.  "  You 
don't  mean  that  you  know  how  the  register  stands  ?  Those 
fellows  haven't  been  looking  again,  have  they  ?  " 

"  Those  fellows,"  repeated  Winburne.  "  What,  Dilke  and 
Rawes  do  you  mean  ?  They  haven't  had  the  chance.  They're 
not  likely  to  find  a  second  key  of  Hepburn's  desk  any- 
where." 

"  Certainly    not,"    observed    Wright       "  Nevertheless,    if 


272  Who  did  it  ? 

Charlie  is  very  anxious  to  hear  how  the  register  stands  now, 
I  could  find  out." 

"How  could  you  manage  that,  George?"  asked  Winburne. 

"  Never  mind  how — I  could,  and  I  shouldn't  have  to  get 
hold  of  any  one's  key,  or  anything  of  the  kind.  Shall  I  do  it, 
Charlie?" 

"  If  you  can  find  out  without  doing  anything  wrong  or  run- 
ning any  risk,  of  course  I  should  like  to  know,''  replied 
Temple. 

"  Very  good.     I'll  find  out  how  the  marks  stand  if  I  can." 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

THE   MEET   AT   DARLASTON. 

DARLASTON  HALL  was  a  fine  old  English  mansion,  built  early 
in  the  reign  of  Charles  I.,  and  exhibiting  all  the  characteristic 
features  of  the  architecture  of  that  day ;  for  it  had  undergone 
little  change  during  the  two  succeeding  centuries.  There  are 
some  styles  more  pure,  more  imposing,  and  more  graceful  than 
the  late  Jacobean  (or  Caroline,  as  it  is  sometimes  called),  but 
none  that  is  more  picturesque.  The  quaint  gables,  the  mas- 
sive pillar-like  chimneys,  the  huge  bays,  the  long  lines  of 
shapely  casements,  each  with  its  stone  mullion  and  transom, 
the  lofty  pedimented  doors,  make  up  a  frontage  which,  for 
artistic  mingling  of  light  and  shade,  can  hardly  be  exceeded. 

An  English  country  house  never  shows  to  more  advantage 
than  on  the  morning  of  a  hunt  breakfast  The  woods  by  which 
it  is  almost  invariably  surrounded  are  clad  in  the  varied  liveries 
of  departing  autumn — green,  red,  and  yellow  intermingling 
like  the  plumage  of  some  tropical  bird ;  the  shrubberies  and 
pleasure-grounds  are  alive  with  groups,  which,  for  diversity  of 
outline  and  colour,  may  match  with  those  of  the  environing 
foliage.  In  the  sweep  before  the  house  liveried  grooms  are 
leading  away  the  horses  from  which  red-coated  owners  have 

s 


274  Who  did  it  ? 

just  alighted  ;  stout  farmers  on  their  serviceable  cobs,  though 
too  conscious  of  the  deficiencies  of  their  "  eddycation  "  to 
presume  to  take  their  place  among  the  "  quality "  at  the 
Squire's  breakfast  table,  are  nevertheless  improving  the  occa- 
sion by  copious  draughts  of  the  good  ale  which  the  steward 
and  his  myrmidons  are  liberally  dispensing ;  groups  of  sturdy 
fellows  in  smock-frocks  and  scarlet-cloaked  village  dames  look 
on  admiringly,  noting  to  one  another  each  fresh  arrival  of 
some  well-known  neighbour.  On  the  wide  lawn  the  hounds 
are  mustered  under  the  charge  of  the  huntsmen  and  whippers- 
in — the  latter  somewhat  disposed  to  murmur  at  the  length  of 
time  before  the  commencement  of  business ;  for,  though  the 
breakfast  has  been  ordered  at  eleven  o'clock,  the  meet  is  not 
to  take  place,  even  nominally,  till  twelve,  and  it  will  probably 
be  later  still  before  the  real  work  of  the  day  begins.  Aware, 
however,  of  the  fact,  they  console  themselves — very  com- 
pletely, to  all  appearance — with  the  solid  viands  and  potables 
brought  out  for  their  refreshment,  while  the  dogs,  who  have 
no  such  sources  of  comfort,  yelp  and  whimper  at  the  unusual 
delay. 

On  the  steps  in  front  of  the  great  Hall  doors  stands  Squire 
Wolford,  arrayed  in  the  quaint,  if  not  picturesque,  hunting 
costume  of  the  day,  rendered  familiar  to  all  travellers  by  its 
frequent  exhibition  on  the  walls  of  tap-rooms  and  inn  parlours. 
He  is  a  fine  specimen  of  the  old  English  squire,  of  sixty — 
bluff,  sound,  and  hearty,  his  hair  only  partially  grizzled  by 
years,  and  his  strength  and  appetite  as  yet  in  no  way  impaired. 
He  greets  with  a  joyous  shout  and  a  cordial  grasp  of  the 
hand  the  sportsmen  in  pink  and  green  and  black,  as  they 
ride  up  one  after  another. 


TJie  Meet  at  Darlaston.  27$ 

"  Ha,  Taunton,  glad  you've  arrived.  Glorious  day,  isn't  it  ? 
What  a  run  we  shall  have  !  Good  morning,  my  lord — par- 
ticularly pleased  to  see  you,  they  told  me  you  wouldn't  be  able 
to  come — were  away  somewhere.'' 

"  I  have  been  in  London,"  says  Lord  Wandesborough, 
"  but  returned  yesterday  in  order  to  be  here." 

"  Did  you,  that's  hearty.  How  d'ye  do,  Lumley  ?  How 
d'ye  do,  Miss  Clara?  You  mean  to  follow  the  hounds,  I 
suppose,  on  that  clever  pony  of  yours  ?  Just  the  thing  for 
you." 

"  No,  Mr  Wolford,  I  am  afraid  I  am  not  horsewoman 
enough  as  yet  to  venture  on  that.  Can  you  tell  us  if  we  are 
to  see  my  brother  here  to-day  ?  " 

"  Your  brother  ?  What !  Stephen  ?  Oh,  to  be  sure,  he  is 
one  of  Thornton's  boys.  Yes,  I  believe  so.  There  is  a 
whole  lot  coming  up  from  Holmwood — a  dozen  or  so,  so  Mr 
Hepburn  said.  He  is  going  to  bring  them,  if  I  remember 
right — your  boy  among  them,  Taunton,  you  may  be  sure. 
Good  day,  Colonel  Wilder,  good  day,  Harry !  Mean  to  be 
in  at  the  death  both  of  you,  I'll  wager  it ! " 

"  We  mean  to  do  our  best  that  way,"  answers  the  Colonel, 
dismounting  and  committing  the  two  horses  to  his  son,  for 
lack  of  a  groom.  "  But  this  is  Harry's  first  day  with  the 
hounds,  and  it  is  very  likely  it  may  be  my  last,  for  I  seem  to 
get  shakier  every  time  I  try  it  on.  So  you  mustn't  be  hard 
on  either  of  us." 

"  Shaky,  Colonel,  not  a  bit  of  it  Ah,  here  comes  Hepburn 
and  the  boys.  How  do,  lads  ?  How  do,  all  of  you  ?  Go 
indoors  and  take  your  places  in  the  dining-room.  Breakfast 
is  just  going  to  begin.  You'll  find  your  father,  Taunton, 


276  Who  did  it  ? 

and   you,   Graves,   your  guardian   and    sister.      They  were 
asking  for  you  a  moment  ago." 

The  boys  thronged  in,  nothing  loth,  and  seating  themselves 
at  the  long  table,  already  half  filled  with  guests,  prepared  to 
do  justice  to  the  delicacies  spread  in  tempting  profusion  be- 
fore them.  They  had  had  their  usual  half-past  eight  o'clock 
breakfast  of  "  scrape"  and  "  skye-blue,"  as  they  were  wont  to 
style  it ;  but  the  three  hours  which  had  intervened,  the  brisk 
walk,  and  the  sight  of  the  dainties  with  which  the  board  was 
loaded,  had  banished  all  recollection  of  the  repast  in  question. 
Taunton  and  Graves  were  seated  with  their  own  friends ;  but 
the  others,  seven  or  eight  in  number,  clustered  close  together, 
as  if  for  mutual  support  in  the  campaign,  which  they  were 
about  to  commence,  taking  care  to  keep  as  far  as  possible 
from  Mr  Hepburn's  observation. 

"  Strange  fellow,  that  Temple,"  whispered  Dilke  to  Payne, 
as  they  took  their  places.  "  There  is  never  any  reckoning  on 
what  he  will  do,  or  what  he  will  not  do.  Yesterday  he  told 
Hepburn,  as  plainly  as  possible,  that  he  didn't  wish  to  go  to 
either  Darlaston  with  the  first  and  second  class,  or  to  Spene- 
leigh  with  the  juniors.  He  meant  to  stay  at  home,  he  said, 
if  the  Doctor  would  allow  it." 

"  Yes,"  returned  Payne,  "  and  he  had  refused  old  Gurdon's 
invitation,  just  in  the  same  way,  a  week  before.  The  old 
Captain's  back  was  a  bit  put  up  about  it,  I  believe,  but  Temple 
didn't  seem  to  mind.  Wright  and  Winburne,  too,  his  cronies, 
tried  hard  to  persuade  him  to  go  to  Witherne  Caves,  but 
Temple  stood  out  about  it,  and  wouldn't  listen  to  them. 
And  then  this  morning,  just  after  breakfast,  he  went  to  the 
Doctor  and  told  him  he  had  changed  his  mind,  and  very 


The  Meet  at  Darlaston.  277 

much  wished  to  go    to   Darlaston  to  the  breakfast,   after 
all ! " 

"  I  wonder  Thornton  allowed  it,"  remarked  Dilke.  "  He 
doesn't  in  general  allow  fellows  to  play  fast  and  loose  in  that 
way." 

"  I  don't  suppose  he  would,"  returned  Payne,  "  but  he  had 
made  a  row,  I  believe,  about  Temple's  staying  at  home  ; 
declared  he  would  make  himself  ill,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing.  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  he  had  written  about  it  to 
Mother  Temple,  for  Charlie  had  a  letter  this  morning,  which 
he  took  into  his  study  to  read,  and  it  was  just  after  that  that 
he  went  to  the  Doctor." 

"  Well,  he  was  wise  at  all  events,"  said  Dilke  ;  "  a  fellow  is  a 
fool  who  misses  a  spread  like  this,  if  he  can  go  to  it.  And 
here  comes  the  old  Squire  to  take  the  end  of  the  table,  and 
Hepburn's  going  to  say  grace.  Just  what  he  is  good  for  ! " 

Meanwhile,  Temple  had  been  manoeuvring  in  vain  to  get 
the  next  place  at  the  table  to  Harry  Wilder.  He  had  been 
induced  to  change  his  mind  in  the  matter  of  the  hunt  break- 
fast, by  a  letter  which  he  had  that  morning  received — not  as 
Payne  had  supposed,  from  his  mother,  but  from  his  friend 
Harry.  It  informed  him  that  the  writer  was  anxious  to  see 
him  as  soon  as  possible ;  and  as  they  were  both,  he  believed, 
going  to  the  meet,  they  had  better  choose  their  opportunity 
of  meeting  somewhere  after  the  breakfast,  privately  in  the 
grounds.  Harry  went  on  to  say  that  Charlie  must  be  sure  to 
come,  as  the  matter  in  hand  was  very  pressing.  Temple  went 
immediately  to  Dr  Thornton,  and  with  some  difficulty  gained 
his  permission  to  accompany  his  schoolfellows.  He  had 
encountered  further  difficulty  from  the  senior  usher,  who  had 


278  Who  did  it  ? 

expressed  surprise  at  seeing  him  present  himself  as  one  of 
the  party,  and  required  an  explanation,  which  Charlie  had  to 
stumble  through  as  well  as  he  could.  He  sat  on  thorns 
throughout  the  breakfast,  unable  to  relish  the  delicacies,  or 
enter  into  the  fun  which  pervaded  the  whole  table.  He 
noticed  that  Harry  Wilder  seemed  almost  as  uneasy  as  him- 
self. He  had  been  introduced  by  his  father  to  a  lady,  who 
was  evidently  some  relative  or  old  acquaintance  of  the 
Colonel's,  and  who  continued  throughout  the  breakfast  to  ply 
him  with  questions,  which  Harry  was  obliged  to  answer.  But  he 
cast  every  now  and  then  a  glance  at  Charlie,  which  expressed 
an  impatience  of  what  was  passing,  which  was  almost  equal 
to  his  own. 

At  length  the  entertainment  came  to  an  end.  The  health 
of  the  Squire  had  been  drunk,  with  three  times  three,  and 
responded  to  in  a  speech  which  evoked  even  greater  en- 
thusiasm. Then  the  party  broke  up,  the  carriage  drive  was 
thronged  with  red  coats  and  stamping  steeds ;  the  hounds 
moved  off  under  the  convoy  of  the  huntsmen  to  the  cover 
appointed,  and  in  ten  minutes  the  old  Hall  was  left  to  the 
occupation  of  the  ladies,  and  such  of  the  male  guests  as  were 
disinclined,  or  unable,  to  witness  the  principal  sport  of  the 
day. 

At  Squire  Wolford's  especial  request,  Mr  Hepburn  had 
allowed  the  boys  to  accompany  the  hounds  to  cover,  and  be 
witnesses  of  the  scene,  until  the  fox  should  be  found  and  the 
hunt  disappear  in  the  distance ;  with  the  express  condition, 
however,  that  they  should  not  attempt  to  follow  the  hunt,  but 
return  forthwith  to  the  Hall.  While  they  were  hurrying  out 
under  the  Squire's  escort,  full  of  eager  and  joyous  excitement, 


The  Meet  at  Darlaston.  279 

Temple  and  Harry  Wilder  contrived  to  slip  away  from  the 
throng  of  boys — who  were  too  busy  to  trouble  themselves 
about  the  movements  of  any  living  creatures,  except  the  horses 
and  dogs.  Turning  into  a  narrow  shrubbery  walk,  they  hurried 
along,  till  they  found  themselves  on  the  edge  of  a  thick  planta- 
tion, having  met  no  one  but  a  red-haired  rustic  in  a  smock 
frock,  who  stared  at  them  with  dull  and  fishy  eyes. 

"  This  will  do,  Charlie,"  said  Wilder.  "  We  needn't  go  any 
further.  Here  is  no  one  who  can  overhear  us,  excepting  the 
sheep,"  he  added,  laughing,  and  pointing  to  a  flock  which  had 
retreated  to  the  cover  of  the  wood,  alarmed  probably  by  the 
braying  of  the  horns  and  the  shouts  of  the  crowd. 

"  Yes,  this  will  do,"  assented  Temple.  "  Well,  Harry,  what 
is  it  which  you  have  to  say  to  me  ?  " 

"  What  you  won't  like  to  hear,  I  am  afraid.  My  father  had 
a  letter  yesterday  evening  from  Colonel  M'Grath.  He  had 
already  reached  St  Helena  on  his  way  homeward.  The  ship 
was  to  remain  for  a  day  or  two  at  the  island,  and  he  had  sent 
a  letter  by  the  Argus,  a  vessel  which  was  just  weighing  anchor 
for  England.  But  he  expected,  he  said,  to  be  at  home  almost 
as  soon  as  the  Argus,  his  own  ship  being  the  faster  sailer. 
His  arrival  at  Plymouth  may  be  looked  for  any  hour — that  is, 
if  he  hasn't  landed  already  ! " 

"  He  hasn't  actually  arrived,  then  ?  "  asked  Temple. 

"  No,  he  hasn't  reached  England,  so  far  as  we  know," 
answered  Wilder.  "  But  there  is  small  comfort  in  that." 

"  I  don't  know  that,"  rejoined  the  other.  "  If  he  doesn't 
come " 

"  What  nonsense,"  broke  in  Harry  Wilder,  angrily.  "  It 
may  put  off  discovery  for  twenty-four  hours,  perhaps,  or  pos- 


280  Who  did  it  ? 

sibly  two  days ;  but  then  everything  is  sure  to  be  found  out. 
There  is  nothing  for  it,  Charlie,  but  to  confess  the  whole 
matter  at  once.  "  I  am  sorry  for  you,  of  course  ;  but  I  don't 
see " 

"  Just  wait  a  moment,  Harry,  and  let  me  finish  my  sentence. 
If  Colonel  M'Grath  doesn't  arrive  to-day,  he  may  come  as  soon 
as  he  likes.  I  shall  not  care." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Temple  ?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you.  I  have  found  the  pistol — that  is,  I  know 
where  it  is." 

"  You  do  ?  Where  and  how  did  you  find  it  ?  "  exclaimed 
Wilder,  in  great  surprise. 

"  Hush.  Sit  down  on  the  stile  here,  and  I  will  tell  you. 
You  know  there  is  a  very  hard  run  going  on  between  Burton, 
Graves,  and  myself  for  the  Hawley  prize " 

"  Yes,  I  know  that.     I've  heard  of  it  several  times." 

"  It  has  been  thought  a  very  doubtful  matter  by  a  good 
many  of  the  fellows  which  of  the  three  stands  first  in  the 
register  at  the  present  time.  Hepburn  has  kept  the  list  of 
marks  shut  up  close,  and  won't  let  any  of  the  fellows  look  at 
it.  There  has  been  a  great  deal  of  curiosity  on  the  subject." 

"  I  daresay ;  but  what  then  ?  " 

"  One  of  the  fellows  discovered  accidentally  that  Hepburn 
had  taken  the  register  out  of  his  desk,  and  carried  it  up 
into  his  bedroom.  His  bedroom  is  not  kept  locked,  you 
know." 

"  And  I  suppose  he  went  into  the  bedroom  while  Hepburn 
was  out  of  the  house,  and  looked  at  the  register." 

"  Just  so.  He  looked  last  night,  and  found  out  that  I  was 
eight  marks  above  Burton,  and  three  still  above  Graves." 


The  Meet  at  Darlaston.  281 

"  Really  !  Well,  I  congratulate  you,  Charlie,  with  all  my 
heart.  But  I  don't  see " 

"  You  don't  see,"  said  Temple,  filling  up  the  void  which  the 
other  had  left,  "  what  that  has  to  do  with  Colonel  M'Grath 
and  his  arrival  in  England." 

"  Well,  no  I  do  not,  Charlie,  and  that's  the  fact." 

"  Nor  do  I.  But  the  fellow  who  looked  last  night  into 
Hepburn's  room  saw  something  else  there  besides  the  register. 
He  saw  a  pistol " 

"  A  pistol ! "  exclaimed  Wilder. 

"A  pistol;  an  old-fashioned  pistol,  with  the  letters  M.  M'G. 
engraved  on  it" 

"  How  did  Hepburn  get  hold  of  it  ?" 

"  That  I  can't  say,  or  how  long  he  has  had  it.  I  suppose 
he  had  offered  a  reward  for  it,  and  the  person  who  picked  it 
up,  whoever  he  may  have  been,  took  it  to  him.  You  may 
remember  that  I  wanted  to  offer  a  reward  ever  so  many  weeks 
ago,  but  I  hadn't  the  means  of  doing  it." 

"  And  what  do  you  propose  to  do  now  ?  " 

"  I  shall  go  straight  into  Hepburn's  room  to-night  and  take 
the  pistol  away.  I  consider  I  have  quite  a  right  to  do  so.  It 
was  1  who  lost  it,  and  I  am  going  to  restore  it  to  its  proper 
owner." 

"  There  is  something  in  that  certainly,"  said  Harry  Wilder ; 
"  but  I  suppose  you  won't  go  and  demand  it  of  him.  You'll 
wait  till  he  is  out  of  the  way." 

"  I  should  like  to  claim  it  openly ;  but  I  can't  do  so  with- 
out betraying  the  whole  matter,  and  there  are  many  reasons 
against  doing  that.  Then  I  must  get  out  the  old  way — I 
don't  like  it,  but  it  can't  be  helped — and  take  it  to " 


282  Who  did  it  ? 

"  The  Gipsy's  Hollow,  and  there,  I  suppose,  you  will  expect 
to  find  me  waiting  for  you,"  suggested  Wilder.  "Well,  I 
have  no  doubt  that  will  be  best.  If  I  get  the  pistol  back,  and 
replace  it  in  M'Grath's  box  to-morrow  night,  he  is,  as  you 
say,  welcome  to  come  back  as  soon  as  he  likes.  Well,  really 
this  is  a  great  piece  of  luck !  Of  course,  Hepburn  doesn't 
suspect  either  who  the  fellow  was  who  lost  the  pistol,  or  who 
the  fellow  was  to  whom  it  belonged,  does  he  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  reason  for  supposing  that  he  does  either  the 
one  or  the  other,"  was  the  answer. 

"  And  your  friends,  Wright  and  Winburne " 

"  Oh,  they  would  say  nothing,  even  if  they  knew  all  about 
this.  But  they  don't.  They  were  wondering  what  Hepburn 
could  want  with  a  pistol,  and  were  speculating  as  to  whether 
he  was  afraid  of  the  house  being  robbed." 

"That  won't  do,  Charlie,"  said  Wilder.  "Hepburn,  of 
course,  will  make  a  row  about  the  pistol  having  been  taken 
away,  and  your  friends  must  suspect  that  it  is  you  who  took  it." 

"  If  they  do,  they'll  hold  their  tongues ;  I'll  go  bail  for  it," 
said  Temple.  "  I  forgot  there  would  be  a  row  about  the 
removal  of  the  pistol.  No  doubt  there  will  be ;  but  that  can't 
be  helped,  and  there  will  be  nothing  to  connect  the  pistol 
either  with  you  or  with  me.  If  it  is  necessary,  I  will  speak  to 
George  and  Jack  Winburne.  I'll  simply  tell  them  that  I 
borrowed  the  pistol  to  shoot  the  match  with  Graves — indeed 
they  know  that  already ;  that  I  lost  it  in  the  shrubbery,  and 
suppose  that  Hepburn  must  have  found  it  himself,  or  that 
some  one  brought  it  to  him,  and  that  all  I  have  done  has 
been  simply  to  take  it  and  return  it  to  its  proper  owner ;  that 
will  be  enough  to  tell  them." 


The  Meet  at  Darlaston.  283 

"  Quite*  enough,"  assented  Wilder.  "  There  is  no  reason 
for  their  knowing  anything  more,  and  the  less  they  know  the 
easier  for  them.  Well,  that  is  settled  then  ;  and  now  I  think 
the  sooner  we  part  company  the  better.  We've  been  talking 
here  a  long  time,  and  it  will  be  a  wonder  if  we  are  not  missed. 
My  pony  is  waiting  for  me  in  the  Squire's  stable-yard.  I  shall 
gallop  after  the  hunt  as  hard  as  I  can  go.  I  daresay  my 
father  is  miles  away  by  this  time — well  up  with  the  hounds, 
most  likely,  as  he  is  on  one  of  his  best  horses  to-day,  and 
always  rides  pretty  straight.  He  won't  take  much  heed  of  me, 
I  expect,  until  the  fox  is  killed.  Good-bye,  Charlie.  By-the- 
bye,  you  didn't  name  the  time  when  we  were  to  meet  at  the 
Gipsy's  Hollow." 

"  Better  say  a  quarter  before  ten,"  said  Charlie.  "  Hep- 
burn is  sure  to  go  to  the  Doctor's  study  this  evening,  and  he 
never  leaves  that  before  half-past  ten.  I  shall  go  to  his  room 
near  about  half-past  nine,  and  shall  be  back  and  safe  in  bed, 
I  hope,  before  he  has  found  out  that  the  pistol  has  been  car- 
ried off." 

"  All  right,"  said  Wilder,  "  I  shall  be  sure  to  be  there. 
Good-bye." 

He  hurried  off  through  the  shrubberies  towards  the  stables, 
and  in  two  or  three  minutes  afterwards  Temple  saw  him  gal- 
loping at  the  utmost  speed  of  his  pony  down  the  lane,  hidden 
from  the  observation  of  the  people  still  remaining  at  the  Hall 
by  the  cover  of  a  high  hedge.  Temple  sat  down  on  the  stile 
for  a  few  minutes,  and  looked  after  him. 

"  I  suppose  it  must  be  all  safe  now,"  he  reflected,  "  but  we 
have  had  a  narrow  escape — too  narrow  to  be  by  any  means 
pleasant.  I  am  clear  ahead  of  Burton  now,  and  there  is  very 


284  Who  did  it  ? 

little  chance  of  our  positions  being  reversed.  When  the  last 
week's  marks  are  added  to  the  total  I  shall  be  at  least  eighteen  or 
twenty  in  advance  of  him.  And  Graves  hasn't  caught  me  either, 
as  I  feared  he  had.  It  is  a  precious  good  job  that  I  happened 
to  be  three  or  four  marks  above  him  when  we  first  started 
on  this  race,  or  he  would  have  been  too  much  for  me.  I  have 
never  been  able  to  gain  a  single  mark  on  him.  Well,  there  is 
only  one  week  more,  or  rather  three  days  more,  and  then  it 
will  be  all  over,  and  if  I  have  a  lead  of  only  one  mark  it  will 
be  as  good  as  a  hundred.  Well,  Charlie  Temple,  my  young 
friend,  as  the  Doctor  would  say,  you  got  yourself  into  a  nice 
hobble — not  that  he'd  say  'hobble,'  which  isn't  classical — 
difficulty  he'd  call  it — you  have  got  yourself  into  a  serious 
difficulty,  and  though  you  appear  to  have  got  out  of  it  again, 
which  is  more  than  you  deserve,  I  hope  you  will  take  warn- 
ing, and  be  wiser  another  time.  And  now  that  you  have  had 
your  lecture,  which  I  hope  will  do  you  good,  you  had  better 
go  and  join  the  others,  or  you  will  have  old  Hepburn  down 
upon  you." 

He  let  himself  down  from  the  stile  as  he  spoke,  and  made 
his  way  across  the  field  into  the  lane,  down  which  he  had  seen 
Harry  Wilder  disappear.  Out  of  this  one  of  the  gates  of  the 
park  opened.  Temple  entered  by  it,  and  presently  found 
himself  in  front  of  the  house,  on  the  doorsteps  of  which  a 
dozen  or  so  of  his  schoolfellows  were  collected,  with  Mr  Hep- 
burn at  their  head,  evidently  in  no  very  amiable  frame  of 
mind. 

He  was  not  half-way  across  the  field,  when  a  man  who  had 
been  lying  apparently  in  the  ditch  a  few  feet  only  from  the 
stile,  crept  cautiously  out,  and  getting  behind  the  hedge,  which 


The  Meet  at  Darlaston.  285 

separated  the  field  from  the  wood,  began  tramping  up  and 
down  to  warm  himself.  It  was  the  same  man  who  had  met 
Charlie  and  Harry  half-an-hour  before.  Probably  from  his 
appearance  he  was  the  shepherd,  though,  if  so,  he  had  allowed 
the  sheep  to  stray  to  a  considerable  distance. 

"  Chilly  work  this,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  drawing,  as  he 
spoke,  a  flask  from  his  pocket,  and  taking  a  long  draught  from 
it.  "  Enough  to  give  a  man  his  death  of  cold.  However,  I 
have  got  to  the  bottom  of  it  now,  and  that  is  something ;  and 
it's  what  I  suspected,  and  that  is  more.  It's  a  good  job,  that 
they  were  so  full  of  what  they  were  talking  about,  that  they 
took  no  notice  of  anything  else,  or  they  must  have  heard  me 
creep  up  under  the  bank.  Well  now,  there  is  no  time  to  be 
lost.  We  must  catch  'em  to-night.  I'd  better  see  Mr 
Hepburn  at  once." 

Meanwhile  the  last-named  gentleman  had  seen  Temple's 
approach  as  he  came  up  the  gravel  walk. 

"  Here  is  another,"  he  exclaimed  angrily.  "  Where  have 
you  been  all  this  time,  sir  ?  You  were  expressly  told,  as  you 
know  quite  well,  that  you  were  not  to  attempt  to  follow  the 
hounds." 

"I  haven't  done  so,  sir;  I  assure  you,"  said  Temple 
demurely.  "  I  have  just  been  looking  about  me  a  little — just 
through  the  shrubberies  to  the  edge  of  the  wood,  and  back 
again  by  the  lane." 

"  Humph,"  said  Mr  Hepburn  with  a  dissatisfied  glance  at 
Charlie's  coat  and  trousers,  which  indeed  did  not  exhibit  the 
damnatory  evidence  which  the  habiliments  of  some  of  his  com- 
panions presented.  "  You  ought  in  any  case  to  have  been 
here  before  this.  Well,  never  mind  now.  Stay  here  with  the 


286  Who  did  it  ? 

other  boys,  until  we  can  find  those  still  missing.  They  are 
Graves  and  Taunton,  I  believe.  All  the  rest  appear  to  be 
here." 

"  Here  they  come,  sir,"  exclaimed  Dilke,  as  three  mounted 
figures,  followed  by  a  servant,  came  at  a  hard  gallop  across 
the  meadows,  and  clearing  the  park  fence  at  a  bound,  dis- 
mounted on  the  lawn. 

"  Yes,  here  they  are,  and  I'm  glad  to  see  them  safe,"  said 
the  Usher.  "  Well,  Graves,  Taunton,  O'Toole,  what  business 
had  you " 

"  Sir  James  Taunton  sends  his  compliments,  sir,"  said  the 
groom  riding  up,  "  and  I  was  to  tell  you  that  he  had  taken 
the  liberty  of  allowing  the  three  young  gentlemen  to  take  a 
quarter  of  an  hour's  gallop  before  they  went  back  to  school, 
and  he  hopes  you'll  be  so  kind  as  to  overlook  it." 

Mr  Hepburn  growled  like  a  dog  whose  food  is  snatched  from 
him,  before  his  appetite  is  satisfied.  But  Sir  James  Taunton 
was  a  person  of  too  great  consequence  to  allow  the  Usher  to 
say  anything  which  might  possibly  give  him  offence.  When 
he  sent  his  son  to  Holmwood,  and  afterwards  persuaded  his 
neighbour,  Mr  Lumley,  to  send  his  ward  there  also,  it  was 
considered  the  school  had  gone  up  two  or  three  degrees  at 
least  in  the  public  estimation.  It  was  even  hoped  that  Lord 
Wandesborough's  sons,  the  Honourable  Master  Wartons — 
that  they  too,  when  they  grew  old  enough  to  be  sent  to  school, 
might  be  numbered  among  the  Doctor's  pupils.  Mr  Hepburn 
was  therefore  constrained  to  desire  the  servant  to  take  back 
his  compliments  to  Sir  James  Taunton,  and  the  young  gentle- 
men had  come  back  quite  safe.  He  indemnified  himself, 
however,  as  soon  as  the  servant  was  out  of  hearing  by  ordering 


The  Meet  at  Darlaston.  287 

the  boys  in  a  very  gruff  tone  to  fall  in  two  and  two,  and  set  off 
on  their  walk  homewards.  "  It  will  be  nearly  four  o'clock 
before  we  are  home,"  he  said,  "and  I  had  an  engagement 
which  I  was  particularly  anxious  to  keep  at  half-past  three. 
Well,  we  must  step  out  as  fast  as  we  can,  and  make  up  for  lost 
time.  What  do  you  want  my  good  friend,"  he  continued,  as 
a  labouring  man,  dressed  in  a  smock-frock  and  leather  gaiters, 
and  a  hat  with  a  large  brim,  came  up  apparently  to  speak  to 
him. 

"  I  wants  to  zay  a  wurd  or  two  to  'ee,  measter,"  said  the  man, 
whom,  by  the  crook  in  his  hand,  Mr  Hepburn  now  perceived 
to  be  a  shepherd.  "  I  wants  to  zay  a  wurd  to  'ee,  if  'ee  could 
just  wait  a  bit." 

"  I  suppose  these  boys  have  done  some  mischief  or  other 
to  this  man's  property,  or  his  masters,  thought  Mr  Hepburn, 
and  he  wants  compensation.  I  must  hear  him,  I  suppose, 
though  it's  very  tiresome.  Well,  my  good  man,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  I'd  rayther  speak  to  'ee  aloane,  zur,  if  'ee  please,"  returned 
the  shepherd.  "  Send  they  there  chaps  away  if  'ee  please." 
Then  observing  that  the  Usher  hesitated,  he  stepped  close  up 
to  him  and  said  in  a  low  tone,  quite  different  to  the  one  he  had 
spoken  in  before,  "  Bartholomew  Baines." 

Mr  Hepburn  started,  and  looked  the  man  hard  in  the  face. 
Then  turning  to  the  boys,  he  said :  "  This  man  has  some 
complaint  to  make  to  me,  I  suppose.  I  must  hear  wh.at  he 
has  to  say,  but  I  don't  suppose  it  will  take  more  than  a  minute 
or  two.  Walk  on  quietly  towards  Holmwood.  I  shall  over- 
take you  before  long — quietly,  mind,  and  keep  to  the  road." 

The  boys,  in  no  way  enamoured  of  Mr  Hepburn's  society, 
complied  willingly  enough,  and  obeyed  his  injunctions  with 


288  Who  did  it? 

tolerable  fidelity  till  they  were  out  of  ear-shot,  after  which 
it  is  to  be  feared  that  his  admonitions — that  to  walk  quietly  at 
all  events — vanished  wholly  from  their  recollections.  On  the 
contrary,  they  began  to  talk  all  together,  each  one  anxious  to 
tell  his  own  experiences,  lending  a  deaf  ear  to  those  of  his 
companions,  who  were  equally  anxious  to  impart  theirs  to  him. 
Mr  Hepburn's  assurances  that  he  would  overtake  them  in  a 
few  minutes  were  not  verified.  They  had  reached  home  in 
fact  fully  half-an-hour  before  he  arrived,  looking  very  red  and 
heated,  and  enquiring  anxiously  for  Doctor  Thornton. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

WITHERNE  CAVES. 

CAPTAIN  GURDON  had  mustered  his  party,  and  set  off  for 
Trawler's  Gate,  before  Mr  Hepburn  and  his  boys  had  met  in 
the  schoolroom.  The  Captain  was  a  man  who  would  have 
his  orders  obeyed  ;  and  the  fly  from  the  King's  Arms,  and  the 
four  Holmwood  boys  invited  to  fill  it,  were  at  the  old  officer's 
house  five  minutes  before  the  time  named.  But  when  they 
arrived  there,  they  found  that  a  change  had  been  made  in  the 
programme  of  the  day.  The  weather  was  so  extraordinarily 
mild  for  the  time  of  the  year,  and  the  wind  so  favourable,  that 
Captain  Gurdon  had  resolved,  after  all,  on  going  to  Trawler's 
Gate  by  water,  and  returning  in  the  fly.  Before  seven  o'clock, 
his  favourite  four  oared  boat,  the  Havannah,  had  been  run 
down,  her  sails  and  oars  got  aboard,  and  the  hampers  stowed 
away  in  the  bow  and  stern.  The  fly  was  directed  to  proceed 
about  three  in  the  afternoon  to  Barnard's  farm-house,  and  there 
wait  until  the  Captain  and  his  guests  were  ready  to  return. 

The  four  boys  were  all  in  the  highest  spirits.  It  had  been 
agreed  that  no  one  should  be  invited  to  take  Temple's  place. 
There  were  none  of  the  first  or  second  class  boys  who  were 
sufficiently  intimate  with  the  four  invited,  or  with  the  Captain 

T 


290  WJio  did  it  ? 

himself,  to  make  the  companionship  agreeable,  and  four  were 
enough  to  row  the  boat  to  "  Trawler's  Gate"  and  fill  the  fly 
afterwards. 

Captain  Gurdon  had  been  a  good  deal  put  out  by  Temple's 
refusal  to  join  the  party.  He  had  taken  a  great  fancy  to  the 
lad,  and  he  was  one  of  those  thorough  going  partisans,  who 
stick  to  a  friend  through  thick  and  thin,  as  the  saying  is,  until 
they  are  compelled  by  some  unanswerable  facts  to  distrust 
them,  and  then  they  give  them  up  for  good  and  all.  There 
had  been  no  facts — at  least  the  Captain  did  not  allow  that 
there  were  any  facts — to  induce  him  to  change  his  opinion  of 
Charlie ;  and  the  oft-repeated  encounters  between  himself  and 
Mr  Hepburn,  only  strengthened  him  in  the  notion  he  had 
adopted.  Mr  Hepburn  persisted  that  no  unprejudiced  person 
could  entertain  any  reasonable  doubt  of  Temple's  guilt,  though 
the  boy's  cunning  had  been  sufficient  to  evade  actual  proof. 
The  Captain  on  his  side  argued  that  it  was  Hepburn's  notorious 
dislike  to  Temple,  and  that  only,  which  could  blind  him  to 
the  fact  that  there  was  no  case  at  all  against  Charlie,  but  an 
overwhelming  case  against  Graves.  After  repeated  battles,  at 
the  end  of  which  the  combatants  parted,  more  determinedly 
assured  of  the  correctness  of  their  several  views  than  they  were 
before  the  action  began,  they  had  at  last  tacitly  dropped  the 
subject ;  but  both  were  aware  that  hostilities  were  only  sus- 
pended, and  if  either  champion  should  find  his  cause  materially 
strengthened  by  any  fresh  evidence  coming  to  light,  war  would 
be  forthwith  again  declared. 

"  If  I  could  only  prove  that  Graves  was  out  that  morning," 
the  Captain  was  wont  to  say  to  himself,  "  if  I  could  only  prove 
that,  my  case  would  be  complete.  And  he  must  have  gone 


Witherne  Caves.  291 

out.  If  the  pistol  case  had  been  brought  up  after  the  servants 
were  up  and  about,  the  person  who  brought  it  must  have  been 
seen ;  nor  would  Graves  have  been  allowed  to  go  out  to  meet 
him.  And  yet  it  is  strange  that  the  boy  who  took  them  at  the 
coach  office  hasn't  come  forward  to  receive  the  reward  I 
offered — five  pounds.  Graves  may  have  given  him  a  larger 
sum  to  hold  his  tongue,  but  that  is  surely  most  unlikely.  Well, 
I  must  bide  my  time.  I  have  a  strong  idea  that  the  truth  will 
come  to  light  after  all." 

On  the  morning  of  the  expedition  to  Witherne,  the  old  man 
seemed  to  have  for  once  altogether  forgotten  the  subject; 
which  on  other  occasions  was  tolerably  sure  to  turn  up  sooner 
or  later  in  any  lengthened  conversation,  as  King  Charles's 
head  was  wont  to  crop  up  in  Mr  Dick's  memorials.  He 
bustled  about,  superintending  the  launching  of  the  Havannah, 
and  the  careful  conveyance  of  the  hampers  to  the  shore,  which 
labours  occupied  him  until  past  his  usual  breakfast  hour.  He 
greeted  the  boys  on  their  arrival  with  an  encomium  on  that 
excellent  quality  which  they  had  displayed — punctuality ;  and 
in  ten  minutes  more  they  were  aboard  the  boat,  the  sail  hoisted, 
while  the  Captain,  seating  himself  in  the  stern,  took  the  tiller. 

"  We  shall  get  to  Trawler's  Gate,  quite  comfortably,  in  an 
hour  and  a  quarter,  or  certainly  in  an  hour  and  a  half,  if  this 
wind  lasts.  What  a  strange  climate  ours  is.  Who  would 
believe  that  this  was  the  second  week  in  December.  It  might 
be  a  morning  in  May." 

"  Do  you  think  it  will  last,  sir?"  asked  Wright. 

"  No,"  said  the  Captain,  standing  up  and  making  a  careful 
examination  of  the  sky  in  all  directions.  "  It  will  be  fine  all 
the  morning  I  expect,  but  I  won't  answer  for  the  afternoon 


292  Who  did  it  ? 

even.  It  is  quite  as  well  that  we  are  to  go  back  in  the  fly.  I 
should  not  be  surprised  if  there  was  heavy  rain  before  night- 
fall, and  that  were  followed  by  a  sharp  frost.  But  you  lads 
wouldn't  mind  that,  I  dare  say." 

"  No,  we  should  like  a  frost,  sir.  There  is  capital  skating 
on  the  bathing  pond,  and  we  have  been  getting  tired  of  foot- 
ball for  the  last  week." 

They  were  now  clear  of  the  harbour,  running  easily  along 
towards  Cockle  Head,  with  Crawley  Head  and  Curlew  beyond, 
standing  out  in  bold  and  picturesque  relief. 

"What  can  that  be  out  there,  sir?"  asked  Wright,  pointing 
to  some  object  at  a  considerable  distance  out  to  sea.  "  It 
looks  like  the  folds  of  a  great  snake.  Is  there  such  a  creature 
as  the  sea  serpent,  sir?" 

"  I  can't  say,"  replied  the  Captain,  smiling.  "  But  I  can  tell 
you  that  that  is  not  one,  though  you  are  by  no  means  the  first 
person  who  has  made  the  same  mistake.  That  is  a  shoal  of 
porpoises  you  see  tumbling  one  behind  another.  It  is  very 
unusual  for  them  to  come  so  near  the  coast  as  this.  They  are 
generally  to  be  met  with  some  considerable  distance  out  to 
sea,  where  they  will  run  along  by  the  side  of  a  ship,  sometimes 
for  half  an  hour  together." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  a  sea-serpent  yourself,  sir  ?  "  asked 
Winburne. 

"  I  can't  say  for  certain  that  I  have  seen  one,"  replied  the 
Captain.  "I  have  been  on  board  ships,  from  which  they 
were  said  to  have  been  sighted ;  and  once  I  did  see  something 
that  looked  very  like  one." 

"  Tell  us  about  it,  sir,  if  you  please,"  said  Hibbert.  "  We 
should  all  very  much  like  to  hear  it." 


Witherne  Caves.  293 

"  There  is  very  little  to  tell,  Hibbert.  It  was  not  very  long 
after  I  went  to  sea.  I  was  a  midshipman  on  board  the 
Phosphorus,  a  tolerable-sized  frigate.  We  had  been  sent  to 
cruise  about  between  Shetland,  the  Faroe  Islands,  and  the 
coast  of  Norway.  One  day,  when  the  greater  part  of  the 
officers  and  crew  were  down  below  at  dinner,  there  was  a 
great  noise  on  deck.  One  of  the  middies  came  tumbling 
down  among  us,  declaring  there  was  a  great  big  snake,  as  long 
as  a  ship's  cable,  to  be  seen,  not  two  hundred  yards  off.  We 
all  rushed  up  on  deck,  and  found  half  the  ship's  company 
staring  hard  at  something  or  other  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off, 
I  should  guess.  It  was  lying  flat  on  the  sea,  and  was  certainly 
bent  in  folds  like  a  snake,  and  at  one  end  there  was  something 
like  a  head  sticking  up  four  or  five  feet  out  of  the  water. 
But  the  sun  wasn't  out,  and  there  was  a  heavy  bank  of  clouds 
above  it,  and  the  water  was  so  dark,  that  it  was  difficult  to 
make  out  the  exact  shape  of  the  creature.  We  were  running 
away  from  it,  too,  before  a  stiff  breeze,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
it  became  impossible  to  distinguish  it  at  all." 

"  Then  you  don't  think  it  was  a  serpent,  sir  ? "  suggested 
Wright. 

"  I  can't  say  what  it  was,"  answered  the  Captain.  "  We 
had  a  Norwegian  sailor  on  board,  who  declared  that  sea- 
serpents,  as  big  as  what  we  had  seen,  were  for  ever  shewing 
themselves  off  the  Norway  coast,  and  were  as  well  known  there 
as  seals,  or  whales  either.  But  others  said  it  was  nothing  but 
a  large  lump  of  sea-weed,  and  certainly  I  have  seen  pieces  of 
weed  which  were  a  good  hundred  feet  long,  bent  and  twisted 
just  like  a  snake's  body,  and  very  near  the  colour  too.  I 
dont'  know  what  to  say  about  it,  my  lads.  I  suppose  the 


294  Who  did  it  ? 

matter  will  never  be  set  at  rest,  until  a  sea-serpent  is  thrown 
up  or  hauled  ashore,  and  it  wouldn't  be  a  very  easy  thing  to 
do  that." 

While  this  conversation  was  passing,  the  boat  had  steadily 
made  its  way  round  the  rocky  promontory  known  as  Cockle 
Head,  and  under  the  steep  Hanger  Cliffs,  with  the  narrow 
strip  at  their  base,  which  was  left  bare  only  at  low  water  and 
at  certain  states  of  the  tide.  These  past,  the  boat  came  in 
sight  of  Trawler's  Gate,  as  a  wide  opening  in  the  rock  was 
called,  leading  to  a  steep  and  very  picturesque  glen,  at  the  top 
of  which  stood  the  Abbey  ruins.  Both  these  and  the 
Witherne  Caves  were  'favourite  places  of  resort  during  the 
summer  months  for  such  visitors  as  could  obtain  cards  of 
admission  from  Lord  Wandesborough  or  his  stewards  ;  though 
these,  as  has  been  already  intimated,  were  somewhat  charily 
dispensed  to  applicants. 

"  Here  we  are,"  cried  the  Captain,  as  the  keel  grated  on 
the  sand.  "  Now  lads,  we'll  haul  her  up,  and  make  her  fast 
to  the  post  there,  and  then  carry  up  the  hampers  to  Barnard's 
house." 

The  boys  obeyed,  nothing  loth.  With  their  united  strength 
they  dragged  the  vessel  above  high-water  mark,  and  there 
secured  her.  Then  they  lifted  out  the  baskets  in  which  the 
Captain's  good  cheer  had  been  stowed  away,  and  conveyed 
them  up  the  rude  flight  of  steps  which  wound  upwards  through 
the  narrow  glen. 

Barnard's  farm-house  was  conveniently  located  in  a  slight 
hollow,  some  twenty  yards  from  the  Cliff,  which  rose  precipi- 
tously from  the  sea-shore  to  the  height  of  more  than  a  hundred 
feet.  It  was  an  •  exceedingly  picturesque  looking  building, 


Witherne  Caves.  295 

being  designed  as  nearly  as  possible  to  harmonize  with  the 
grey  old  ruins  in  its  immediate  vicinity.  Mrs  Barnard,  who 
was  an  old  acquaintance  of  the  Captain's,  and  was,  moreover, 
well  accustomed  during  the  summer  months  to  cater  for 
visitors,  readily  undertook  to  have  dinner  ready  for  the  party 
in  an  hour's  time.  Meanwhile  they  could  examine  the 
Witherne  Caves,  and  it  was  arranged  that  after  dinner  they 
should  make  an  inspection  of  the  ruins  before  returning  home. 
They  set  out  accordingly,  under  the  guidance  of  a  little 
lame  girl,  who  was  sitting  working  with  her  needle  in  the 
farm-house  kitchen,  and  for  the  next  hour  were  very  busy  in 
examining  the  curious  hollows  in  the  limestone  rock,  known 
as  the  Witherne  Caves.  The  entrance  to  them  was  by  a  long 
narrow  subterranean  passage,  which  had  been  accidentally 
discovered  only  a  few  years  before.  When  the  visitor  had 
passed  through  this,  he  found  himself  in  a  spacious  and  lofty 
chamber,  imperfectly  lighted  by  a  few  fissures  in  the  rock 
above.  The  walls  were,  for  the  most  part,  as  smooth  and 
upright  as  though  they  had  been  the  work  of  human  art, 
while  the  roof  above  presented  a  rude  arch,  which  also  gave 
the  idea  that  it  had  been  carved  by  human  hands.  It  was  be- 
lieved by  some  that  the  caves  had  been  either  altogether 
hollowed  out  by  the  monks,  who  from  very  early  times,  until 
the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century,  occupied  the  Abbey 
of  St  Witherne  ;  or  at  all  events  had  been  enlarged  by  them 
to  their  present  dimensions.  This  latter  theory,  at  all  events, 
had  probably  some  truth  in  it.  The  remains  of  a  subterranean 
passage  might  clearly  enough  be  traced  from  the  convent 
cellars  to  the  rocks  immediately  adjoining  the  entrance 
to  the  caves.  In  the  days  when  the  English  coast  was 


296  Who  did  it  ? 

liable  to  be  continually  visited  by  the  Danish  Pirates,  who 
shewed  no  more  respect  for  friars  and  nuns  than  for  the  other 
inhabitants  of  the  land,  such  places  of  retreat  were  common 
enough. 

"  Ay,  ay,"  said  the  Captain,  when  this  theory  was  pro- 
pounded to  them  by  their  little  lame  guide ;  "  that's  likely 
enough,  my  lass.  I  daresay  there  was  a  beacon  always  kept 
ready  on  the  top  of  Hanger's  Cave  out  yonder ;  and  when  the 
Danish  galleys  came  in  sight,  the  good  fathers  would  pack  up 
their  valuables,  and  retreat  into  these  caves,  the  entrance  to 
which  was  hidden,  I'll  be  bound,  cleverly  enough." 

"  Wouldn't  they  soon  be  starved  out,  sir  ?  "  suggested  Wright. 
"  There  doesn't  seem  to  be  any  way  out  of  the  caves  but  that 
by  which  we  entered.  The  Danes  would  have  them  here  like 
rats  in  a  trap." 

"  So  they  would,  Wright,  if  they'd  had  patience  to  wait.  But 
the  Danes  were  too  restless  for  that.  They'd  torture,  and 
kill,  and  sack  all  they  could  find.  But  when  they'd  done  that, 
they'd  want  to  be  off  again  to  torture,  and  kill,  and  plunder 
somewhere  else.  The  monks  would  come  back  and  find  their 
convent  wrecked  most  likely,  and  such  of  their  neighbours  as 
hadn't  been  able  to  escape,  murdered  or  carried  off.  But 
they'd  be  thankful  to  escape  with  a  whole  skin,  and  set  to 
work  re-building  the  abbey  as  well  as  they  were  able." 

"They  must  have  been  pleasant  times  to  live  in,  sir," 
observed  Winburne. 

"  Ay,  my  lad,"  responded  the  Captain.  "  I  haven't  much 
patience  with  the  people  who  are  not  contented  with  old 
England  in  the  nineteenth  century ;  it  would  do  them  good  to 
make  them  live  six  months  in  any  other  period  of  the  world's 


Witherne  Caves.  297 

history.      I  judge  they  would  be  thankful  enough  at  the  end 
of  that  time  to  get  back  to  the  nineteenth  century  again." 

It  took  fully  an  hour  to  explore  the  various  windings  in  the 
rock,  where  they  sought  in  vain  to  discover  any  secret  mode  of 
egress.  The  Captain  was  at  last  obliged  to  remind  them  that 
their  dinner  was  waiting  at  the  farm-house,  and  that  Mrs 
Barnard's  cookery  might  suffer  if  they  kept  it  waiting.  They 
adjourned  thither  accordingly,  and  for  the  next  hour  enjoyed 
themselves  fully  as  much  as  they  had  done  during  the  previous 
one.  The  Captain  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  watching  with 
much  satisfaction  the  disappearance  of  the  dainties  which  he 
had  provided.  So  far,  at  all  events,  his  party  had  been  a 
decided  success. 

The  dinner  was  over,  however,  at  last.  Not  even  a  school- 
boy out  on  a  party  of  pleasure  can  eat  for  ever.  The  after- 
noon was  wearing  on,  and  the  short  winter's  day  must  before 
long  come  to  a  conclusion.  Moreover,  the  Captain,  as  he 
stepped  to  the  window  with  a  sailor's  instinct,  once  more  to 
examine  the  state  of  the  sky,  saw  only  too  plainly  that  the 
change  he  had  predicted  had  already  taken  place,  and  that  a 
storm  would  probably  break  out  before  the  hour  had  passed. 

"  We  must  make  as  short  an  examination  of  the  ruins  as  we 
can,"  he  said.  "  There  may  be  a  heavy  downfall  of  rain  in 
an  hour,  or  even  half-an-hour's  time.  Barnard,  will  you  see 
the  hampers  packed  and  put  on  the  top  of  the  fly.  The  driver 
must  have  it  round  at  your  door  in  an  hour  at  furthest.  Here, 
Susie,  my  dear,"  he  continued,  addressing  the  little  lame  girl. 
"  Come  with  us  and  shew  us  the  way.  Why,  you  get  along 
pretty  briskly,  little  maid,"  he  added,  noticing  how  deftly  she 
handled  her  little  crutch. 


298  Who  did  it  f 

"  Yes,  sir,"  she  answered ;  "  I  get  on  well  enough.  Brother 
Hugh  is  a  deal  worse  than  I  am." 

"  Brother  Hugh  ?  "  repeated  Captain  Gurdon.  "  Is  he  lame 
as  well  as  you  ?  " 

"  He  is  now,"  she  answered ;  "  but  he  has  been  so  only 
since  August  last.  He  had  a  fall  and  hurt  himself,  and  he 
can't  get  out  of  bed,  but  doctor  says  he'll  get  well  in  time, 
though  I  shall  never  be  better." 

"  And  where  do  you  live,  Susan  ?  " 

"  Oh,  close  by,"  she  answered.  "  You  can't  see  the  house. 
It's  just  round  the  turn  of  that  rock." 

"  Well,  here  are  the  ruins,  boys,"  said  the  Captain.  "  Many 
people  think  them  more  interesting  even  than  the  caves. 
Look  how  thick  the  walls  are,  and  how  rudely,  yet  how 
strongly,  the  stones  are  put  together.  These  were  built  in  very 
ancient  times." 

"Before  William  the  Conqueror,  I  suppose,  sir?"  asked 
Warner. 

"  Yes,  my  lad,  many  hundred  years  before  him  most  pro- 
bably. It  is  said,  I  am  told,  that  it  is  one  of  the  oldest  ruins 
in  England.  If  we  had  time  we  might  trace  out  the  whole 
of  the  plan  of  the  ground  floor,  I  believe — the  entrance  gates, 
and  the  porter's  lodge,  and  the  chapel,  and  the  refectory — 
that  is  the  eating-room,  you  know.  But  we  shan't  be  able  to 
do  that  for  the  rain,  I  am  afraid.  Yes,  it's  beginning  now, 
and  it's  going  to  be  very  heavy  too.  We  shall  be  wet  through 
before  we  can  reach  the  farm-house,  I'm  afraid.  Is  there  no 
place  where  we  can  take  shelter  here,  Susie  ?  " 

"Better  come  to  our  house,  sir,"  said  Susan.  "'Taint 
thirty  yards  off." 


Witherne  Caves.  299 

"  Oh  ay,  to  be  sure,  I'd  forgotten  your  house.  Shew  us 
the  way  my  good  girl ;  come  along  lads."  Susan  led  the  way, 
and  in  two  or  three  minutes  the  party  were  safely  housed  in  a 
small  cottage  nestling  under  the  high  cliff,  that  at  once 
sheltered  and  hid  it  from  sight.  A  decent  looking  woman, 
who  was  busy  washing,  appeared  somewhat  surprised  at  the 
entrance  of  so  many  visitors. 

"  Ask  your  pardon,  ma'am,"  said  the  Captain  politely. 
"  We've  been  caught  in  the  rain,  which  I  fancy  will  come  down 
pretty  heavily.  Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  give  us  shelter  till 
it's  over?" 

Mrs  Gray,  as  the  woman  was  called,  bustled  about  and 
placed  chairs  for  her  visitors.  "  Quite  welcome,  sir,  I'm  sure," 
she  said.  "  Yes,  it's  going  to  rain  heavy,  but  it  won't  last,  I 
judge.  Susie,  you'd  better  go  to  your  brother ;  he's  been 
fretting  after  you." 

The  Captain  took  a  chair.  "  A  nice  little  girl,  your 
daughter,"  he  said.  "  I'm  sorry  to  think  she's  so  afflicted." 

"  She  don't  seem  to  mind  it,  sir,"  said  Mrs  Gray.  "  She 
was  born  so,  you  see,  and  has  never  known  anything  else. 
And  she  don't  suffer  no  pain.  It's  different  with  my  Hugh. 
He's  getting  better,  and  the  doctor  tells  me  that  in  time  he'll 
have  the  use  of  his  legs  again.  But  it's  hard  for  a  boy  of  his 
age  to  lie  there  day  after  day  and  not  be  able  to  move,  let 
alone  the  pain." 

"  How  did  it  happen,  ma'am  ?  "  enquired  the  Captain. 

"  Well,  sir,  it  were  a  fall  off  a  ladder  more  than  three  months 
ago.  Yes,  it  was  last  Saturday  sixteen  weeks — the  nineteenth 
of  August — I  remember  it  well" 

"  Saturday,  the  nineteenth  of  August,"  repeated  the  Cap- 


300  Who  did  it  ? 

tain.  "Ay,  I  remember  that  day  too.  But  how  did  it 
happen  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  I  don't  know  all  the  rights  of  it  myself.  You 
see  Hugh  went  into  Walescliff — 'twasn't  on  the  Saturday  he 
went  in,  but  on  the  Friday,  and  he  was  coming  back  again  by 
the  road  when  he  meets  a  young  gentleman — a  tall  strong 
young  gentleman,  who  asked  him  if  he  wanted  to  earn  a  half- 
crown.  My  boy  had  never  had  so  much  money  in  his  life, 
and,  to  be  sure,  he  said  he  did.  '  What  was  he  to  do  for  it  ? ' 
'  You  must  go  down  to  the  inn  where  the  London  coach 
stops,'  said  the  young  gentleman.  '  It  won't  come  in  till  three 
or  four  o'clock  or  so  in  the  morning,  but  you  must  wait  till 
then.  Then  you  ask  for  a  parcel  directed  to  Mr  Graves.'  " 

"  Graves  !  "  exclaimed  Winburne,  starting  with  surprise. 

"  Be  quiet,  Winburne,"  said  the  Captain.  "  Please  to  go  on 
ma'am." 

"  For  Mr  Graves  of  Holmwood  Priory,"  repeated  the 
woman.  "  I  know  that's  right,  because  Hugh  made  him  write 
it  down  on  a  piece  of  paper,  and  he'd  got  it  in  his  pocket  when 
he  was  brought  home.  Well,  sir,  Hugh  went  back  into  Wales- 
cliff  and  waited  in  the  inn  yard  till  the  coach  came  in.  Then 
he  asked  for  the  parcel,  which  was  given  him." 

"  Do  you  remember  if  you  heard  what  the  parcel  was  like  ?  " 
asked  Captain  Gurdon. 

"  It  was  a  small  wooden  box,"  said  Mrs  Gray,  "  not  above 
two  inches  deep.  Hugh  said  it  was  heavyish  ;  but  he  could 
carry  it  easy  enough.  Well,  he  got  to  the  house,  but  he 
couldn't  get  in.  There's  a  great  high  wall  all  round  it,  he 
says." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  the  Captain.     "  Go  on." 


WitJterne  Caves.  301 

"  Hugh  didn't  know  what  to  do  ;  but  presently  he  heard  the 
gentleman  calling  to  him  through  the  key-hole  of  the  door, 
'  Have  you  got  them  ?  '  says  he.  Hugh  told  him  that  he  had. 
'  Then,'  says  the  gentleman,  '  if  you  look  about  you,  down  by 
the  barn  yonder,  you'll  see  a  ladder,  and  you  must  fetch  it 
and  put  it  against  the  wall  here,  and  mount  up  by  it.'  Well, 
Hugh  found  it.  It  was  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  carry  it, 
and  he  fixed  it,  and  got  up  to  the  top  of  the  wall  with  it. 
But  then  he  found  he'd  left  the  case  behind.  The  gentleman 
gave  him  a  deal  of  bad  language,  he  said,  and  told  him  to 
go  down  and  fetch  it  But  Hugh  had  got  frightened.  He 
was  always  a  meek  boy,  and  he  came  back  presently,  and  said 
he  couldn't  find  it  And  then  Mr  Graves — that's  his  name — 
told  him  to  put  the  ladder  down  to  him,  and  he'd  go  and  look. 
'  Do  you  stay  here  on  the  top  of  the  wall,'  he  says,  '  and  call 
out  to  me  if  you  see  any  one  at  the  windows,  or  hear  any 
noise.'  My  boy  does  as  he's  told,  and  Mr  Graves  goes  and 
presently  comes  back  with  the  case.  '  You  had  left  it  under 
the  barn  wall,'  he  said,  'where  you  took  the  ladder  from,' 
Then  he  mounts  up,  and  pays  Hugh  the  money — I  won't  say 
but  what  he  paid  fair  enough — and  tells  him  to  be  off.  But 
he  didn't  hold  the  ladder  for  him,  and  Hugh  was  that  fright- 
ened that  he'd  no  sooner  put  his  foot  upon  it,  than  he  and 
the  ladder  came  to  the  ground  together.  Mr  Graves,  he  lets 
himself  down  from  the  wall  and  picks  Hugh  up,  and  carries 
him  into  the  barn,  and  lays  him  on  a  heap  of  straw.  '  Lie 
here,'  he  says,  '  quietly  a  bit,  and  then  you'll  be  able  to  walk 
again.'  Well,  Hugh  says  he  don't  know  rightly  what  hap- 
pened after  that  He  lay  half  stupid ;  but  he  thinks  he  heard 
a  lot  of  voices  near  him,  and  he's  sure  there  was  a  dog  bark- 
ing and  a  pistol  fired." 


302  Who  did  it  ? 

The  Captain  looked  round  and  held  up  his  hand,  as  a 
caution  to  the  boys  to  be  silent. 

"  Finish  your  story,  if  you  please,  ma'am,"  he  said.  "  How 
did  your  son  get  home  ?  " 

"He  came  home  in  a  carrier's  cart,  sir.  You  see  there 
is  a  carrier  goes  to  and  fro  between  Haverport  and  Wales- 
cliff  during  the  summer  months.  He  goes  into  Walescliff  on 
the  Mondays,  Wednesdays,  and  Fridays,  and  goes  back  to 
Haverport  on  the  Tuesdays,  Thursdays,  and  Saturdays.  He 
starts  pretty  early  in  the  morning,  and  he  got  to  Holmwood 
(as  I  am  told  they  call  the  place)  not  very  long  after  daybreak 
on  that  Saturday  morning,  so  he  told  me." 

"  Go  on,  Mrs  Gray,  if  you  please,"  said  Captain  Gurdon,  as 
she  paused  for  a  moment. 

"  Well,  when  he  got  nigh  the  house,  he  sees  the  doors  of  the 
great  barn  open,  and  our  Hugh  lying  in  a  faint,  and  Mr 
Graves  standing  over  him.  He  asks  what's  the  matter,  and 
the  young  gentleman  tells  him  that  our  Hugh  had  had  a 
tumble  from  a  wall ;  but  he  thought  he  was  more  frightened 
than  hurt.  '  I  don't  know  what  to  do  with  him,'  he  says,  '  and 
I  can't  send  him  home,  because  I  don't  know  who  he  is  nor 
yet  where  he  lives.'  '  I  know,  though,'  said  the  carrier. 
'  It  is  Hugh  Gray,  son  of  Thomas  Gray,  of  Trawler's  Gate, 
out  Horn  combe  way.'  '  Do  you  know  his  father's  cot- 
tage?' says  the  gentleman.  'I  know  quite  well,'  says  the 
carrier.  '  I  go  within  a  hundred  yards  of  it.'  '  Oh,  you 
do  ! '  says  Mr  Graves.  '  Then  perhaps  you'll  take  him 
home,  and  I'll  give  you  half-a-crown  for  the  job.  The 
sooner  he's  gone  the  better,'  says  he.  '  There's  a  brute 
of  a  dog  up  at  the  house  here,  which  some  one,  I  find,  has 


WitJierne  Caves.  303 

been  and  let  loose.  If  he  gets  out  here,  and  he's  as  likely  to 
do  it  as  not  as  soon  as  the  gate's  opened,  he'd  very  probably 
see  this  boy  and  grab  hold  of  him.  He'd  best  not  gab  me, 
though,'  he  says.  '  He  did  it  once,  and  I  let  him  off;  but  if  he 
does  it  again,  he'll  wish  he  hadn't.'  " 

"  You  are  sure  he  said  that,  are  you,  Mrs  Gray  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  I  didn't  hear  him,  to  be  sure ;  but  that's  what 
the  carrier  told  me  he  said." 

"  Of  course  that  is  what  I  mean,"  returned  the  old  Captain. 
"  Please  to  go  on,  ma'am." 

"  Well,  sir,  he  agreed  to  take  the  lad,  and  they  lifts  him 
into  the  cart  between  them.  Then  Mr  Graves  puts  the  ladder 
against  the  wall  of  the  house  and  mounts  up,  and  calls  to  the 
carrier  to  put  the  ladder  into  the  barn,  and  then  come  for  his 
half-crown.  Well,  he  does,  and  Mr  Graves  gives  him  the  half- 
crown,  and  then  the  man  drives  off  and  brings  my  boy  home. 
We  put  him  to  bed,  and  there  he  has  been  ever  since." 

"  But  you  said,  Mrs  Gray,  that  your  boy  heard  a  dog  bark- 
ing and  a  pistol  fired.  When  did  that  happen  ?  " 

"  Hugh  don't  seem  to  know  rightly  when  it  was.  He  was 
in  a  sort  of  dwam  after  his  fall  until  he  got  home.  Everything 
was  confused  like.  Only  he's  sure  about  the  dog  and  the 
shot.  But  you'd  best  go  in  and  speak  to  him  yourself,  sir. 
Hugh's  quite  right  in  his  head,  though  his  leg  is  still  bad." 

"  I  should  be  very  glad  to  do  so,  if  you  will  kindly  allow 
it,"  said  the  Captain,  "  Boys,  stay  here  till  I  come  back,  and 
be  so  good  as  to  say  nothing  further  to  Mrs  Gray  on  this  sub- 
ject" 

The  boys  promised,  though  with  somewhat  rueful  faces,  and 
the  Captain  disappeared,  ascending  the  steep  cottage  staircase. 


304  Who  did  it  ? 

He  was  absent  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  then  returned, 
radiant  with  triumph. 

"  All  right,  my  lads,"  he  exclaimed ;  "  the  matter  now,  at 
all  events,  is  as  clear  as  the  day.  You  must  still  keep  what 
you've  heard  to  yourselves  for  a  few  hours  more ;  but  some 
time  to-morrow  everything  shall  be  cleared  up.  Mrs  Gray, 
will  you  give  me  the  name  and  address  of  the  carrier  ?  " 

"  His  name  is  Andrew  Giles,  sir,  and  he  lives  in  King's 
Row,  Haverport.  I  don't  rightly  remember  the  number," 

"  Never  mind  that ;  I  shall  find  him  out.  I  shall  come  to- 
morrow with  a  gentleman  to  take  down  your  son's  deposition. 
He  is  quite  willing  to  make  it,  he  says.  We  shall  be  here 
tolerably  early." 


CHAPTER   XX. 


THE    GIPSY'S    HOLLOW 

BURTON  and  Cressingham,  as  the  reader  has  already  been 
informed,  had  to  pass  the  morning  of  the  headmaster's  birth- 
day at  home.  Cressingham  had  been  very  unwell  on  the 
previous  day,  and  had  not  felt  it  safe  to  accept  Squire  Wol- 
ford's  invitation.  His  head  was  a  good  deal  better  on  the 
morning  of  the  hunt  breakfast,  and  he  might  have  asked  for 
leave  to  withdraw  his  refusal,  if  Temple  had  not  done  the  same 
thing  only  a  few  minutes  before.  The  Doctor  had  expressed 
both  surprise  and  annoyance  in  his  reply,  and  Cressingham 
saw  plainly  that  a  second  petition  of  the  same  kind,  if  it  was 
not  peremptorily  refused,  would  be  very  reluctantly  granted. 
And  after  all,  as  Burton  was  not  going,  and  Graves  and  Rawes 
— to  whom  he  bore  a  very  decided  dislike — were,  he  did  not 
very  much  regret  his  exclusion.  He  might  have  gone  with 
the  juniors,  who,  under  the  escort  of  Mr  Wilkes  and  Mr 
M'Donald,  were  to  make  an  excursion  and  dine  at  the  inn 
in  Spenewood.  But  there  was  no  one  nearly  of  his  own  age 
among  the  boys  who  composed  the  party,  and  the  society  of 
the  two  ushers  was  not  very  attractive.  He  preferred  that  of 
Burton,  who,  for  some  unknown  reason,  had  asked  leave  to 

u 


306  Who  did  it  ? 

remain  at  the  Priory  in  preference  to  attending  the  hunt  break- 
fast. 

"  You  don't  care  for  the  sport  or  the  breakfast  either,  hey, 
Burton  ?  "  said  the  headmaster,  when  his  senior  scholar  had 
made  his  request. 

"  No,  sir,"  answered  Burton.  "  I  can't  say  I  have  any  great 
fancy  for  either  the  one  or  the  other." 

"  And  you  are  not  one  of  Captain  Gurdon's  party  either,  I 
see?"  pursued  the  headmaster,  glancing  at  the  lists  which  Mr 
Wilkes  had  delivered  to  him. 

"No,  sir,"  answered  Burton;  "he  has  not  invited  me." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  would  find  the  excursion  to  the  inn  in 
Spenewood  rather  dull  work.  If  it  was  summer,  and  the 
leaves  were  out,  and  the  flowers  in  the  lanes,  it  would  be  a 
different  thing." 

"  I  don't  wish  to  go  to  Spenewood,  sir." 

"  Stay  at  home  and  keep  Cressingham  company,  eh  ?  He 
is  obliged  to  stay  behind.  That  would  be  a  kind  act,  Burton; 
and  he's  an  old  friend  of  yours.  Yes,  I  will  allow  you  to  do 
that." 

Burton  was  apparently  about  to  disclaim  the  motive  attri- 
buted to  him,  but  after  a  moment's  thought,  changed  his 
intention  and  remained  silent. 

"Very  well,  Burton,"  the  Doctor  said.  "It  shall  be  so 
arranged.  You  and  Cressingham  will  remain  behind.  There 
will  be  no  one  left  in  the  house  but  you  two  and  Mrs  Skinner, 
and  you  will  get  nothing  but  cold  meat  for  dinner,  but  you 
mustn't  mind  that." 

Burton  bowed  and  withdrew.  The  two  senior  boys  saw 
their  schoolfellows  set  out  in  various  directions,  and  were 
presently  left  alone  before  the  schoolroom  fire. 


The  Gipsy's  Hollow.  307 

"What'll  you  do,  Clem?"  asked  Cressingham,  presently. 
"  Will  you  play  a  game  of  chess  or  dominoes,  or  hear  that  jolly 
book  that  Herbert  has  lent  me  ?  Shall  I  read  aloud  for  both 
our  benefits?" 

"  No,  Fred,"  said  Burton,  "  not  just  now,  if  you  please. 
By-and-bye,  I  daresay,  but  not  now." 

"  You  were  wanting  to  see  my  book  of  autographs,  Clem," 
said  Cressingham.  "I  had  not  fastened  them  all  in  when 
you  spoke  to  me  about  it,  but  they're  all  right  now.  Shall  I 
go  upstairs  and  fetch  it?" 

"  No,  thank  you,  Fred.  I — I  don't  feel  in  the  humour  for 
it  just  now." 

Cressingham  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  taking  out  his 
blotting-book,  began  to  write  a  letter,  while  Burton  seated 
himself  in  the  window,  and  sat  looking  out  into  the  court-yard. 
It  was  not  a  very  interesting  view,  consisting  of  nothing  in 
fact  but  the  high  walls  surrounding  the  premises,  and  the  iron 
gate,  which  Mrs  Skinner,  apprehensive  of  thieves,  had  taken 
care  to  lock. 

An  hour  and  more  passed  thus.  Cressingham  finished  his 
letters  and  put  away  his  writing  case,  remarking  at  the  same 
time,  that  it  was  a  good  job  got  over,  though  he  supposed 
they  could  not  go  till  the  next  day. 

Burton  started,  as  he  heard  the  remark.  "  Not  go  ?  Why 
not?  Fred,"  he  asked.  "The  postman  always  takes  the 
letters  back." 

"  Yes,  but  he  won't  come  to-day,  you  know." 

"The  postman  not  come,"  repeated  Burton  in  dismay. 
"Why  not?" 

"  Oh,  didn't  you  hear  ?  It  was  arranged  that  Cobbe  should 
call  as  he  went  by,  and  take  any  letters  there  might  be.  Four- 


308  Who  did  it  ? 

fifths  of  the  fellows,  you  know,  belong  to  the  Speneleigh  party, 
and  nearly  all  the  masters,  and  there  could  be  no  letters  to 
take  back.  So  it  was  agreed  that  that  would  be  the  best 
way." 

"  I  don't  see  that,"  said  Burton,  evidently  annoyed.  "  What 
is  to  become  of  your  letters  then  and  mine  ?  Cobbe  wouldn't 
take  them,  I  suppose." 

"  No,  of  course  not,"  rejoined  Cressingham.  "  Nor  would 
he  take  those  of  the  fellows  who  have  gone  to  Darlaston  or  to 
Trawler's  Gate.  They'll  all  come  up  to-morrow  morning.  I 
don't  suppose  there  will  be  anything  but  what  can  wait  till 
then." 

Burton  made  no  answer.  He  got  up,  sauntered  about  a 
little,  then  muttering  something  about  fresh  air,  he  went  out 
into  the  play-ground. 

Cressingham  looked  after  him  with  some  surprise,  and 
seemed  for  the  moment  half  inclined  to  follow  him.  But  if 
so,  he  changed  his  mind,  and  taking  out  a  book  began  read- 
ing. 

He  saw  no  more  of  his  friend  again  till  dinner-time,  and 
then  he  appeared  even  more  depressed  than  before.  In  reply 
to  Cressingham's  inquiry  as  to  where  he  had  been,  he  answered, 
nowhere  in  particular,  and  then  suddenly  changed  the  subject 
to  some  remarks  about  the  fun  the  fellows  would  have  at 
Darlaston.  But  this  topic  soon  languished  and  another  silence 
succeeded.  Cressingham  made  no  further  attempt  to  over- 
come his  companion's  reserve.  After  dinner,  Burton  sat 
down  to  write  a  letter,  which  apparently  cost  him  a  good  deal 
of  trouble.  He  folded,  sealed,  and  directed  it,  and  then  once 
more  sauntering  into  the  play-ground  was  seen  no  more. 


TJie  Gipsy's  Hollow.  309 

About  four  o'clock,  the  boys  from  Darlaston  returned,  and 
in  another  hour  or  so  the  main  body  from  Speneleigh  arrived, 
and  the  schoolroom  once  more  resounded  with  a  chorus  of 
eager  voices.  The  juniors  had  had  great  fun  at  Speneleigh. 
The  old  pony  had  run  away  with  the  cart  which  Tom  Cobbe 
was  driving,  and  very  nearly  upset  the  concern,  dishes,  plates, 
glasses,  and  all,  into  a  ditch.  In  fact,  Tom  had  only  averted 
the  catastrophe  by  running  Billy's  head  into  a  large  thorn  bush 
which  grew  on  one  side  of  the  lane.  Tom  had  declared  that 
old  Billy,  who  in  general  was  as  steady  as  Father  Time  him- 
self, had  been  instigated  to  this  act  of  insubordination  by  a 
bunch  of  prickly  gorse,  which  some  of  the  juniors  had  stuck 
under  his  tail,  while  their  companions  distracted  Tom's  atten- 
tion on  the  other  side.  But  as  Tom  had  escaped  without 
personal  damage,  and  with  only  the  loss  of  one  mug,  which 
had  been  shaken  off  on  the  occasion  of  Billy's  first  plunge, 
and  he  was  perfectly  aware  that  he  would  get  nothing  but 
additional  aggravation  by  attempting  to  bring  home  the 
offence  to  any  of  the  boys,  he  was  wise  enough  to  drop  it. 
Mr  Wilkes  had  taken  his  seat  at  dinner  in  the  midst  of  a 
colony  of  red  ants,  from  which  he  had  considerable  ado  to  rid 
himself,  and  the  three-legged  stool  on  which  Mr  M'Donald 
had  located  himself  having  broken  down,  the  usher  had 
rolled  ignominiously  in  the  dust  A  complaint,  too,  had  been 
brought  to  Mr  Wilkes  by  the  landlord  of  the  "  Royal  Oak" 
that  his  pigs  had  been  let  out  into  the  wood,  and  one  of  his 
horses,  or  rather  two  of  them,  had  been  made  to  perform  a 
kind  of  extempore  steeplechase  over  a  series  of  hedges  and 
ditches  which  bordered  on  the  forest.  But  no  one  knew  who 
had  been  the  offenders — the  boys  apparently,  least  of  all,  and 


310  Who  did  it? 

as  all  the  animals  had  been  recovered  and  apparently  had 
sustained  no  injury,  no  notice  was  taken. 

The  mirth  of  the  Darlaston  party  was  fully  equal  to  that  of 
their  younger  school-fellows.  Graves,  O'Toole,  and  Taunton, 
who  had  been  permitted  to  accompany  the  hunt  for  a  mile  or 
two,  had  of  course  their  tales  to  tell  of  the  leaps  they  had 
taken,  and  the  spills  they  had  witnessed,  and  the  like.  But 
the  great  incident  of  the  day  had  been  O'Toole's  adventure 
with  the  whipper-in. 

"Tell  us  about  it,  Maurice,"  said  Taunton.  "I  heard 
some  of  it,  but  not  all.  What  made  you  take  Jack  Raggett's 
horse?  I  know  him  well.  He  has  been  in  our  service  a 
year.  He  is  about  the  crustiest  chap  going.  How  came  you 
on  his  horse  ?  " 

"  How  came  I  on  his  horse,"  repeated  O'Toole.  "  Why 
wouldn't  I  be  on  his  horse,  when  I  thought  he'd  lent  it  to 
me?" 

"But  what  made  you  suppose  that,  Paddy?"  rejoined 
Taunton. 

"  What  else  would  I  suppose  ?  "  inquired  O'Toole.  "  Didn't 
he  say  to  me,  '  Will  ye  take  my  horse,  sir,  for  a  minute  or 
two  ? '  And  sure  I  didn't  mean  to  keep  it  for  more  than  a 
minute  or  two,  but  by  all  the  powers  I  forgot  the  time  ! " 

"  I  heard  what  passed,"  said  Hill  laughing.  "  Mr  Wolford 
had  called  to  Jack  Raggett  that  he  wanted  to  speak  to  him. 
He  wasn't  above  forty  or  fifty  yards  from  him.  But  there  was 
a  sunk  fence  and  a  lot  of  marshy  ground  between  them. 
Raggett  didn't  want  to  leap  his  horse  into  the  swamp,  and  he 
would  have  had  a  very  long  way  to  go  if  he  had  ridden  round. 
So  he  asked  Maurice  '  to  hold  his  horse  for  a  minute  or  two/ 


'  ]\CK   RAGGETT  RAN   BA.CK.   HALLOOING   TO  O'TOOLE." 


Page  310. 


The  Gipsy's  Hollow.  311 

meaning  while  he  got  over  the  fence  and  spoke  with  the 
Squire.  But  before  Jack  had  gone  half  a  dozen  yards, 
Maurice  was  in  the  saddle ;  and  in  another  minute  the  fox 
had  been  found,  and  the  whole  field  was  off  after  him,  Maurice 
among  them.  Jack  Raggett  ran  back  hallooing  to  O'Toole  to 
pull  up,  and  garnishing  his  speech  with  a  string  of  oaths,  but 
Maurice  wouldn't  stop." 

"  How  could  I  stop,  and  the  brute  pulling  like  a  wild  ele- 
phant?" interposed  O'Toole.  "Sure,  I  promised  to  hold 
him,  and  so  I  would  have  done,  but  I  might  as  well  have  tried 
to  hold  a  flash  of  lightning  !  " 

"What  happened  next?"  asked  Cressingham,  who  was 
listening,  much  amused,  to  what  was  passing. 

"  Oh,  we  all  went  on  together  across  half  a  dozen  fields, 
till  we  came  to  a  check  just  at  the  brook.  Maurice  had  sat 
his  horse  over  a  fence  or  two —  " 

"  Over  three  fences,  my  boy,  a  five-barred  gate  and  a  double 
post  and  rail,"  shouted  O'Toole.  "  By  the  same  token  the 
last  was  a  rasper.  Didn't  the  baste  come  down  upon  his 
nose  over  it,  and  didn't  I  lift  him  up  again  as  neat  as  a  nine- 
pin,  and  none  the  worse,  forbye  his  mouth  full  of  mud  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  Maurice,"  said  Taunton. 
"  Jack  Raggett  didn't  compliment  you  much  on  your  riding, 
when  he  came  up  ! " 

"  The  big  bla-guard,"  cried  O'Toole.  "  It  was  he  didn't 
know  how  to  thank  a  gentleman  for  taking  care  of  his  horse  ! 
But  the  Squire  cut  him  short,  and  spoke  up  like  a  gentleman, 
as  he  is.  '  Mr  O'Toole,'  says  he, '  Ye  ride  like  an  Irishman,' 
and  to  be  sure,  there  couldn't  be  a  bigger  compliment  than 
that ! " 


312  Who  did  it? 

There  was  a  general  laugh.  "  Why,  Maurice,"  said  Payne, 
"  that  was  exactly  what  Jack  Raggett  said,  only  Mr  Wolford 
didn't  hear  him.  'Who  is  he?'  he  calls  out  to  us,  as  he 
saw  you  gallop  off  on  his  horse.  '  Who  is  he  ?  Is  he  one  of 
your  party,  gentlemen  ? '  I  called  out  to  him  that  '  it  was  Mr 
Maurice  O'Toole,  a  native  of  Tipperary,  in  Ireland,  and  a 
pupil  of  Dr  Thornton's.'  'An  Irishman  is  he?'  cries  he. 
'  I  should  have  guessed  as  much  from  the  manner  in  which 
he  rides!'" 

"  The  villain  !  "  shouted  the  indignant  Hibernian.  "  If  ever 
I  come  across  him  again,  I'll  lay  a  thick  stick  across  his 
shoulders  for  his  impudence." 

"  Impudence  ! "  repeated  Taunton.  "  Why,  you  said  just 
now  that  there  couldn't  be  a  greater  compliment  than  to  say 
you  rode  like  an  Irishman  ! " 

"  Did  I  ?  "  said  O'Toole.  "  Well,  maybe  I  did.  But  you 
see,  Squire  Wolford  meant  one  thing  by  it  and  Raggett,  the 
negur,  meant  another,  and  that  makes  all  the  difference.  It's 
like  Tim  O'Grady's  two  friends—  " 

"  Who's  Tim  O'Grady  ?  "  asked  Dilke. 

"  He's  a  Tipperary  boy,"  said  O'Toole ;  "  and  he  was  going 
home  from  Ballycooney  Market,  when  he  meets  Phil  M'Carthy, 
a  decent  lad  as  ye'd  meet  any  day.  '  What  is  it,  Phil  ?  '  asks 
O'Grady.  '  Sure,  I  am  going  up  to  Mr  Gwynne's,'  says  he, 
'  to  ask  him  to  let  me  have  the  lease  of  the  farm  that's  just 
fallen  vacant.'  '  I  wish  ye  may  get  it,  Phil,'  says  O'Grady. 
'  Thank  ye  kindly,'  says  M'Carthy,  and  walks  on.  Presently 
Tim  meets  Pat  O'Leary,  the  biggest  scoundrel  on  this  side  of 
Galteemore,  and  as  ugly  as  a  scarecrow  besides.  '  How  goes 
it,  Pat?'  asks  O'Grady.  'Sure  I'm  going  up  to  Kathleen 


The  Gipsy's  Hollow.  313 

O'Connor ' — who  was  the  darling  of  the  world  for  beauty — '  sure 
I'm  going  up  to  Kathleen,  to  ask  her  to  take  me  for  her 
sweetheart ! '  'I  wish  ye  may  get  it,  Pat,'  says  O'Grady. 
'  Ye  villain,'  says  O'Leary,  '  what  do  ye  mean  by  that  ? '  and 
pulls  off  his  coat  and  wants  to  fight  him.  So  ye  see,  it's 
what  a  man  manes,  and  not  what  he  says,  that  makes  the 
difference." 

"  I  see,  Maurice ;  but  how  do  you  know  that  the  Squire  did 
mean  a  compliment  after  all  ?  "  asked  Rawes. 

"How  do  I  know  it?"  exclaimed  O'Toole.  "Why,  by 
what  he  said,  Dick  Rawes.  'I  am  afraid  we  must  send 
you  back,  Mr  O'Toole,'  he  says,  '  or  the  Doctor  won't  be 
pleased  with  us.  But  it's  proud  of  your  company  that  I  am.' 
More  by  token,  the  whipper-in  never  said  a  word  after  that." 

"  Not  a  word  that  you  heard,  Maurice,"  observed  Taunton. 
"  But  I  won't  answer  for  what  he  may  have  said,  when  the 
Squire  was  out  of  hearing.  But  never  mind.  It  was  capital 
fun  while  it  lasted.  The  only  pity  is  that  old  Hepburn 
wasn't  a  hundred  miles  off." 

"  At  this  moment  Wright  and  his  three  companions  entered 
the  room,  and  repaired  at  once  to  Temple's  study.  But  he 
was  not  to  be  found,  and  they  were  informed  by  one  of  .the 
juniors  that  he  had  gone  upstairs  soon  after  his  return  from 
Darlaston,  and  had  not  been  seen  since. 

"  I  suppose  he  has  got  leave  to  sit  in  his  bedroom,"  said 
Winburne.  "  He  has  taken  to  doing  that  of  late  when  there 
is  a  great  row  down  below.  Well,  I  suppose,  when  the  Hawley 
prize  is  settled,  as  it  will  be  now  in  a  couple  of  days  or  so, 
Charlie  will  give  us  some  more  of  his  society." 

"He  is  right  to  keep  at  it  just  now,"  observed  Warner. 


314  Who  did  ill 

"  Graves  has  been  writing  one  of  his  tip-top  essays,  for  which 
his  set  expect  that  the  Doctor  will  give  him  marks  enough  to 
send  him  up  to  the  top  of  the  list ;  and  Charlie's  been 
working  tremendously  over  some  Greek  verses  from  one  of 
Shakespeare's  plays,  which  he  hopes  will  keep  him  above 
Graves.  This  is  just  the  rush,  you  see,  between  the  dis- 
tance post  and  the  judge's  stand.  If  Graves  doesn't  pass  him 
now,  he  won't  at  all." 

"  Graves  will  never  pass  him,  that  is  certain,"  remarked 
Wright.  "  The  Captain  will  shut  him  up  for  good  and  all 
to-morrow.  He  has  written  off  about  this  fellow  Giles,  the 
carrier  at  Haverport,  you  know.  He  has  written  off  to  him 
already.  While  they  were  getting  down  the  luggage  from  the 
fly,  he  went  into  his  parlour  and  wrote  a  note  to  some  fellow, 
— a  lawyer,  I  believe,  in  Haverport — telling  him  he  means 
to  call  upon  him  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  and  that  he 
is  meanwhile — this  evening,  I  suppose — to  make  an  appoint- 
ment with  Giles ;  and  he  has  ordered  the  fly  to  be  at  his 
house  at  seven  to-morrow." 

"  Phew  ! "  exclaimed  Winburne,  "  the  old  fellow  is  in  a 
hurry,  indeed.  I  shouldn't  have  thought  there  was  any  need 
for  all  that  hurry  either." 

"  Well,  it  isn't  his  impatience  altogether,"  said  Wright. 
"  He  never  likes  waiting,  that  is  certain.  But,  you  see,  he  is 
afraid,  if  the  story  gets  about,  that  Graves  will  hear  of  it,  and 
contrive  some  means  of  getting  out  of  it.  He  means  to  take 
him  quite  by  surprise." 

"  That  he  will  do,  I  expect,"  said  Warner.  "  He  will  take 
everyone  by  surprise,  I  should  think,  except  us  four." 

At  this  moment  the  supper  bell  rang,  and  the  boys  betook 


The  Gipsy's  Hollow.  315 

themselves  to  the  dining-hall,  fully  prepared,  notwithstanding 
the  liberal  feasting  of  the  forenoon,  to  do  justice  to  the  cheer 
provided  for  them.  They  retired  to  bed,  however,  imme- 
diately after. 

A  little  more  than  half  an  hour  afterwards  the  door  of  the 
schoolroom  was  cautiously  opened,  and  some  one  entered. 
It  was  almost  pitch  dark,  the  only  light  being  what  came 
in  through  the  cracks  of  the  window  shutters  from  the  wintry 
sky  outside.  Whoever  the  person  was,  he  was  evidently  well 
acquainted  with  the  locality,  for  he  moved  steadily  on,  feeling 
his  way  by  the  forms  and  desks  until  he  reached  the  middle 
window.  Then  there  came  the  sound  of  the  unbarring  of  the 
shutters,  and  then  the  pale  gleam  of  the  starlight.  Presently 
one  of  the  upright  bars  which  protected  the  window  was 
drawn  out,  the  sash  gently  pushed  up,  and  the  figure  crept 
stealthily  out,  carefully  closing  the  window  behind  him. 
Almost  immediately  afterwards  another  dark  form  stole  forth 
from  behind  the  headmaster's  desk,  where  it  had  been  hiding, 
lifted  the  sash,  and  followed. 

Though  there  was  no  moon,  the  night  was  cloudless,  and 
there  was  sufficient  light  to  enable  the  second  of  the  two 
adventurers  to  see  with  tolerable  clearness  what  was  passing. 
Stepping  behind  a  buttress,  Baines,  the  constable,  watched  the 
figure  of  Charlie  Temple,  as  he  moved  silently  along  under  the 
shadow  of  the  building,  until  he  entered  one  of  the  outhouses 
in  the  wood-yard.  The  constable  again  withdrew  from  sight, 
expecting  to  see  the  boy  reappear  with  a  ladder  by  which  to 
scale  the  wall  But  the  door  remained  closed,  and  after  a 
time  Baines  pushed  it  open  and  entered.  It  was  an  old 
disused  wash-house  apparently,  with  an  empty  cupboard  in  one 


316  Who  did  it? 

corner.  Somehow  or  other  its  occupant  had  disappeared.  A 
good  deal  puzzled,  the  constable  proceeded  closely,  by  the 
help  of  his  dark  lantern,  to  search  every  nook  and 
corner,  but  there  appeared  to  be  no  mode  of  exit.  At 
length  he  set  himself  to  examine  the  bottom  of  the  old 
sink,  which  he  tried  to  lift  up.  It  came  away  easily  enough, 
and,  being  removed,  disclosed  a  flight  of  stone  steps  winding 
through  the  thickness  of  the  wall.  Descending  these  he 
presently  found  himself  pushing  his  way  through  a  quantity  of 
brushwood,  and  at  once  emerged  into  an  open  drain  lying 
immediately  under  the  walls  of  the  Priory.  Scrambling  out  as 
well  as  he  was  able,  he  hurried  along  the  path  leading  through 
the  wood  till  he  reached  a  large  tree  known  by  the  name  of 
"  The  Prior's  Oak,"  under  which  tradition  said  that  the  Prior 
of  Holmwood,  in  ancient  days,  was  wont  to  dispense  justice. 

Here  he  stopped,  and  struck  three  blows  with  his  staff  on 
the  trunk  of  the  tree,  when  he  was  joined  by  a  tall  dark  figure 
which  had  been  hiding  under  the  roots  on  the  other  side. 

"  Is  that  you,  Baines  ?  "  said  a  low  voice. 

"  Yes,  it's  me,  sir.     Have  you  seen  Mr  Temple  go  by  ?  " 

"  Some  one  passed  two  or  three  minutes  ago.  He  was 
muffled  up,  so  that  I  could  not  make  out  who  it  was." 

"  Which  way  did  he  go,  sir  ?  " 

"  Into  the  thicket  yonder.  He  passed  between  those  two 
oaks  and  turned  to  the  right." 

"  Come  along,  sir,  as  quick  as  you  can.  We've  no  time  to 
lose." 

They  hurried  through  the  shrubbery,  and  in  a  few  moments 
reached  the  small  open  glade,  which  has  already  been  described 
as  the  "  Gipsy's  Hollow."  Listening  intently,  they  heard 
voices  at  a  short  distance,  and  crept  close  up  unnoticed. 


The  Gipsy's  Hollow.  317 

"  You  are  sure  it's  the  right  pistol  ?  "  said  some  one. 

"Yes,"  was  the  answer,  "there  can  be  no  doubt  about 
that.  I  stopped  a  moment  when  I  had  got  clear  of  the  house 
to  examine  it.  I  had  only  seen  it  once  before ;  but  I  can't 
be  mistaken.  There's  the  old  Indian  work  you  were  speaking 
about,  on  the  stock  and  barrel.  And  there  are  the  letters  M. 
M.  G.  I'll  light  my  lamp  again  for  you  to  make  sure  yourself, 
if  you  like." 

"Well,  you  may  as  well.  I  don't  suppose  there  can  be 
any  mistake ;  but  it  will  be  a  comfort,  to  be  sure."  With  some 
difficulty  the  lamp  was  lighted,  and  the  light,  as  it  was  turned 
on  the  pistol,  showed  plainly  the  faces  of  Harry  Wilder  and 
Charles  Temple. 

"  It's  all  right,"  said  the  former.  "  You  may  put  out  the 
light  again.  Well,  I  must  say  I'm  extremely  glad.  It  would 
have  been  worse  for  you,  Charlie,  of  course,  than  for  me. 
But  I  should  have  been  extremely  sorry  if  old  M'Grath,  who 
is  always  very  kind  to  me,  had  come  home  and  asked 
me  for  his  pistols,  which  he  had  left  in  my  charge,  and  I  had 
not  been  able  to  give  them  back  to  him." 

"  I  can  understand  that,  Harry.  I  knew  it  to  be  your  feel- 
ing. But  for  that  I  should  not  have  made  use  of  that  secret 
passage  again.  I  am  heartily  sorry  I  ever  made  use  of  it  at 
all." 

"  Well,  it  is  all  right  now,  Charlie." 

"Ah,  no,  Harry,  it  is  not  all  right.  It  may  be  all  right 
about  this  pistol,  but  not  about  poor  old  Nep.  I  can't  bring 
him  to  life  again.  ]  I  have  worked  pretty  hard  for  the  last 
three  months  to  get  this  scholarship.  But  I  would  have  toiled 
like  a  galley  slave,  and  glad,  if  I  could  [have  brought  that 


3i8  Who  did  it  t 

about.  I  mean  to  go  to  old  Gurdon  as  soon  as  this  prize  has 
been  settled,  and  I  hope  he  will  forgive  me.  It  will  be  a 
great  relief  to  have  it  out  with  him,  at  all  events." 

"  Old  Gurdon  is  a  kind-hearted  old  fellow.  You  won't  have 
any  difficulty  with  him,"  said  Wilder. 

"I  hope  not;  but  he  is  not  the  only  one  whose  pardon  I 
ought  to  ask.  The  Doctor  has  been  very  kind  to  me  ever 
since  I  have  been  here.  I  feel  every  day  that  I  have  been 
ungrateful.  I  ought  never  to  have  gone  out  by  that  passage. 
I  didn't  think  what  I  was  doing,  and  that  is  the  fact." 

"  Why  don't  you  go  at  once  and  tell  him  about  the  pas- 
sage ?  "  asked  Harry.  "  Good  fellow  as  he  is,  you  might  be 
sure  he  wouldn't  be  hard  upon  you." 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  his  being  so,"  returned  Temple.  "  But 
see  here,  Harry,  I  promised  Dick  Plumridge  three  years  ago, 
when  he  told  me  about  this  passage,  that  I  would  never  tell 
anyone  of  its  existence,  as  long  as  I  remained  at  Holmwood. 
It  was  a  foolish  promise,  I  grant  you ;  but  as  I  made  it,  I 
ought  to  keep  to  it." 

"  You  are  right  there ;  but  you  mean  to  tell  him  of  it  when 
you  leave,  do  you  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  moment  I  feel  at  liberty  to  do  so." 

"  Well,  Charlie,  you  have  always  spoken  kindly  of  Thorn- 
ton. It  is  of  Hepburn  only  that  you  have  complained." 

"  Hepburn  !  Ay,  he  does  not  like  me,  that  is  certain. 
But  even  there  I  have  been  to  blame.  He  is  stern  and 
severe,  no  doubt,  but  he  is  just  and  right-minded ;  and  I  have 
given  him  a  great  deal  of  provocation.  A  fellow  feels 
differently  when  he  is  just  going  away  for  good  and  all  from 
anywhere.  I  should  like  to  make  it  up  with  him  and  have 


The  Gipsy's  Hollow.  319 

his  pardon  too.  But  he  has  so  strong  a  feeling  against  me, 
that  I  am  afraid  it  would  be  very  little  my  attempting  it. 
Most  likely  he  would  mistake  my  motives.  Well,  good-night, 
Harry.  We  had  better  not  stay  here  any  longer." 

"  Good-night,  Charlie.  I  hope  that  the  next  thing  I  shall 
hear  is,  that  you  have  been  appointed  Hawley  exhibitioner." 

"  Are  you  going  to  let  Mr  Wilder  carry  off  the  pistol,  sir  ?  " 
asked  Baines  in  a  subdued  voice.  He  had  been  expecting 
every  moment  to  receive  an  order  to  interpose.  "If  we 
don't  make  haste,"  he  added,  "  it  will  be  too  late  to  stop  him." 

"  Hush ! "  returned  the  usher  in  the  same  guarded  tones. 
"  I  think  it  will  be  better  not  to  interfere  with  young  Mr 
Wilder  at  all." 

"Not  interfere  with  him,  sir?  I  don't  see  how  we  can 
help  interfering  with  him.  Unless  Mr  Temple  confesses 
everything  to-morrow,  whicli  is  a  great  deal  more  than  I 
expect,  we  shall  require  Mr  Harry  Wilder's  evidence.  I 
should  have  kept  the  pistol,  if  I  had  been  you,  sir.  To  be 
sure,  both  you  and  I  have  seen  it,  and  can  swear  to  it,  but 
there  would  have  been  nothing  like  the  pistol  itself  to  make 
everything  sure." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Mr  Hepburn,  absently.  "  Baines,  do 
you  think  it  necessary — absolutely  necessary — that  this  business 
should,  after  all,  be  gone  into  publicly  ?  " 

"Necessary,  sir?  Gone  into  publicly?"  repeated  the 
constable.  "  Why,  to  be  sure,  you  wouldn't  go  to  hush  it  up, 
sir?" 

"Hum,"  said  Mr  Hepburn.  "  I  am  not  quite  clear  about  that. 
I  don't  see  if  Captain  Gurdon  was  told  about  it,  and  Dr 
Thornton,  and  they  were  both  satisfied —  " 


320  Who  did  it  ? 

"  Lord  bless  me,  sir,"  ejaculated  Baines,  "  you  can't  mean 
it,  to  be  sure  !  When  we've  had  all  this  trouble,  and  have 
brought  home  the  case  so  beautiful  at  last,  you  can't  think  of 
letting  it  drop.  Why,  sir,  what  would  the  public  say  ?  What 
would  the  magistrates  say?  There's  Colonel  Wilder,  sir,  and 
Mr  Knyvett  too.  It  would  be  as  much  as  my  situation  was 
worth  !  And  besides,"  he  muttered  half  inaudibly,  "  there's 
the  reward  offered,  and  there's  that  young  jockey  that  led  me 
that  dance  about  the  gipsy's  clothes.  He  wants  taking  down 
a  peg  or  two.  I'll  teach  him  to  behave  himself  conformable 
before  I've  done  with  him.  No,  sir,  this  must  come  before 
the  magistrates  to-morrow." 

"  Very  well,  Baines,  then  you  must  bring  it  forward.  I  wish 
you  good-night." 

The  constable  withdrew  accordingly  to  his  own  house,  and 
Mr  Hepburn  slowly  retraced  his  steps  to  the  Priory. 

"  I  have  done  that  lad  injustice,"  he  reflected.  "  I  wish  I 
had  understood  him  better.  But  I  am  afraid,  if  Baines  is 
resolved  to  push  this  affair  to  the  utmost,  it  may  not  be 
possible  to  extricate  him  from  the  difficulty  in  which  he  has 
involved  himself." 


CHAPTER   XXL 

AYE,  WHO  INDEED  ! 

"  WHERE  is  Burton  ?  "  asked  Dr  Thornton,  as  the  first  class 
went  up  on  the  following  morning  to  say  their  Homer  lesson. 

"  He's  unwell,  sir,"  said  Cressingham.  "  He  called  me 
into  his  room  this  morning  as  I  was  going  by,  and 
told  me  that  he  wanted  his  name  placed  upon  the  sick  list. 
I  don't  think  he  was  well  all  yesterday,  and  he  said  he'd  lain 
awake  all  night." 

"  I  daresay  this  sudden  change  in  the  weather  has  affected 
him,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  It  was  tolerably  mild  last  night, 
but  the  frost  is  pretty  sharp  this  morning.  He  had  better 
stay  in  bed  to-day,  and  we  will  send  his  dinner  up  to  him. 
Here  are  the  marks  for  this  week's  compositions,  boys.  I 
cannot  forbear  to  remark  on  the  excellence  of  Graves's  essay 
on  the  character  of  Alcibiades,  and  Temple's  Greek  transla- 
tion from  Timon  of  Athens.  I  have  awarded  fifteen  marks 
for  each  of  the  writers — the  highest  amount,  I  believe,  I  have 
given  for  any  composition,  for  many  years,  at  all  events. 
Burton's  Latin  prose  too,  and  Cressingham's  elegiacs  are  good. 
The  former  has  nine,  and  the  latter  eight  marks  for  them. 
Now,  Temple,  if  you  please,  begin  to  construe." 

x 


322  Who  did  it  ? 

The  lesson  began,  and  proceeded  much  as  usual  for  about 
an  hour,  when  it  was  interrupted  by  the  very  unusual  appear- 
ance of  the  school  servant  at  the  door.  The  surprise  caused 
by  Tom's  appearance  was  increased  by  the  look  of  stern 
solemnity  which  overspread  his  features,  which  awakened 
even  the  Doctor's  curiosity.  "  Whatever  is  the  matter,  man  ?  " 
he  exclaimed. 

"  If  you  please,  Dr  Thornton,"  said  Cobbe,  in  a  sepulchral 
voice,  which  might  have  announced  the  doom  of  all  present 
to  immediate  execution,  "  If  you  please,  Dr  Thornton, 
Colonel  Wilder  and  Mr  Harry  are  in  the  study,  and  Baines, 
the  constable,  is  with  them,  and  they  desires  to  see  you 
immediate." 

"  See  me  immediately,"  said  Dr  Thornton.  "We  have  just 
done  the  lesson,  or  shall  have  done  in  ten  minutes.  Won't 
that  do?" 

"  From  the  demeanour  of  the  parties,"  returned  Tom 
austerely,  "  I  should  fear  that  it  would  not.  And  that  is  not 
all,  sir.  Captain  Gurdon,  who  arrived,  as  I  may  say,  pro- 
miscuous with  them,  he's  in  the  dining-room.  He  has  two 
persons  with  him,  as  come,  I  am  told,  from  Haverport ;  and 
one  of  them,  too,"  added  Tom,  rising  to  his  climax,  "  one  of 
them,  too,  is  a  lawyer,  and  clerk  to  the  magistrates." 

The  Doctor  looked  a  good  deal  surprised,  and  still  more 
annoyed.  "  Is  there  to  be  no  end  of  this  ?  "  he  muttered  to 
himself.  "  Mr  Hepburn,  do  you  know  anything  of  this  ?  " 

"  I  may  guess  something,  sir,"  said  the  usher,  "  but  I  would 
rather  not  interfere." 

"  You  say  they  want  to  see  me"  said  the  headmaster ;  "do 
they  wish  to  see  me  only,  or  others  also?" 


Aye,  who  indeed  !  323 

"  From  what  they  told  me,"  returned  Cobbe,  "  Baines 
wishes  to  see  all  the  young  gentlemen,  as  he  did  last  autumn." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  then  it  must  be  so.  Boys, 
shut  your  books  and  take  your  places  at  your  bureaus.  Cobbe, 
show  the  party  in  here." 

Tom  departed,  and  presently  returned,  ushering  in  the  six 
visitors.  Dr  Thornton  shook  hands  with  Colonel  Wilder, 
Harry,  and  Captain  Gurdon,  and  requested  all  to  be  seated. 
Then  he  said,  "  I  conclude  you  have  come  here  with  the  in- 
tention of  preferring  a  charge  against  some  one  respecting 
the  subject  which  has  been  engaging  our  attention  for  the  last 
month  or  two — something,  in  fact,  has  come  to  light.  If  so, 
as  a  great  deal  has  been  said  on  the  subject  already,  it  would 
be  better  if  the  charge  was  made  at  once  against  the  person 
supposed  to  be  the  guilty  party." 

Baines  was  about  to  speak,  but  Captain  Gurdon  pushed 
before  him. 

"  Quite  right,  Thornton,"  he  said,  "  quite  right.  I  charge, 
then,  yonder  boy — Stephen  Graves  his  name  is — with  having 
killed  my  dog,  Neptune,  on  the  night  of  the  i8th  of  August 
last,  and  I  have  evidence  here  which  will  prove  clearly  that 
he  committed  the  offence." 

The  headmaster  looked  grave,  but  did  not  seem  much  sur- 
prised. "  You  have/ra?/",  Gurdon,  you  say?  " 

"  Certainly,  Thornton.  I  shouldn't  make  the  charge,  if  I 
hadn't" 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  headmaster,  "  and  you,  I  suppose, 
Baines,  have  come  for  the  purpose  of  corroborating  Captain 
Gurdon's  evidence  ?  " 

"  I,  sir !  "  exclaimed  the  constable.     "  No,  I  haven't  come 


324  W 'ho  did  it?- 

for  any  such  purpose  as  that.  I've  come  here  to  charge  a 
different  person  altogether  with  it — Mr  Charles  Temple.  I 
don't  know  what  evidence  Captain  Gurdon  may  think  he's 
got,  but  he's  mistook,  whatever  it  may  be.  Mr  Temple's  the 
one  what  did  it,  and  he  won't  deny  it,  if  you  ask  him —  " 

"  Nonsense,  Baines,"  broke  in  Captain  Gurdon  indignantly. 
"  I  know  your  dislike  to  that  poor  lad,  and  the  efforts  that 
have  been  made  to  fix  the  offence  on  him."  He  glanced  angrily 
at  Mr  Hepburn  as  he  spoke.  "  I  am  glad  to  see  that  he,  at 
all  events,  says  nothing.  He  is  satisfied,  no  doubt,  that  my 
friend  Charlie  had  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

All  eyes  were  turned  upon  Mr  Hepburn,  who  answered 
coldly,  "  You  had  better  not  appeal  to  me,  Captain  Gurdon, 
I  do  not  wish  to  say  anything  about  this,  and  you'll  not  do 
wisely  to  oblige  me  to  speak." 

"  This  will  not  do,"  said  Dr  Thornton.  "  If  there's  to  be 
an  inquiry  it  cannot  be  made  in  this  way.  Captain  Gurdon, 
as  you  spoke  first,  you  had  better  make  your  charge  and  give 
your  evidence.  Of  course,  if  that  should  prove,  as  you 
declare  it  to  be,  conclusive,  it  will  save  all  further  trouble.  If 
it  should  not,  the  case  against  Temple  can  be  gone  into. 
Colonel  Wilder  and  myself  will  hear  both  charges." 

Captain  Gurdon  bowed.  "  I  wish  in  the  first  place  then  to 
state,"  he  said,  "  that  one  day  in  August  last,  a  week  or  more 
before  the  dog  was  shot,  there  was  a  wager  made  between 
Graves  and  Temple  as  to  which  was  the  best  shot  with  a  pistol, 
and  a  day  was  fixed — Saturday,  the  ipth  of  August,  when  this 
match  was  to  come  off." 

"Stop  a  minute,"  said  the  Doctor.  "Before  we  go  any 
further,  I  should  like  to  inquire  whether  that  statement  is 


Aye,  who  indeed !  325 

admitted  to  be  correct  or  not.  Graves,  Temple,  did  you 
agree  to  shoot  such  a  match?" 

He  looked  at  the  two  boys.  Graves  made  no  answer,  but 
Temple  said,  "  We  did,  sir." 

"  Go  on,  Captain  Gurdon." 

"  Graves  was  anxious  to  win,"  rejoined  the  Captain,  "  and 
in  order  to  ensure  doing  so,  he  wrote  home  for  a  brace  of 
pistols,  which  he  had  reason  to  believe  were  unusually  good. 
In  corroboration  of  this — " 

"  There  is  no  reason  for  corroborating  that  assertion, 
Gurdon,"  said  the  headmaster,  "  I  have  proof  of  that.  I  sent 
the  pistols  back  to  Mr  Lumley,  expressing  my  surprise  and 
regret  that  they  should  have  been  sent  to  Holmwood.  He 
informed  me  in  reply  that  they  had  been  despatched  without 
his  knowledge  on  the  iyth  of  August,  by  Graves's  sister.  You 
may  proceed." 

"Well,  sir,"  resumed  the  Captain,  "the  pistols  did  not 
reach  Walescliff  till  three  or  four  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
the  i  gth.  Graves  had  once  or  twice  sent  up  to  the  office  for 
them.  He  had  sent  Cobbe,  your  servant,  to  the  Anchor  late 
in  the  afternoon  of  the  i8th.  Here  is  Cobbe  himself,  he  can 
say  whether  that  is  correct  or  not.  Did  you  go  for  the 
pistol  case,  Cobbe?" 

"  Begging  your  pardon,  Captain  Gurdon,"  said  Tom,  loftily. 
"  I  did  not  go  to  fetch  no  pistol  case.  I  knows  the  duties  of 
the  station  to  which  I  am  called  better  than  that.  I  went  to 
fetch  a  innocent  box,  which  might  contain  paints,  or  sugar 
plums,  or  any  such  like — " 

«  That  will  do,  Cobbe,"  interposed  the  Doctor.  "  Captain 
Gurdon  did  not  mean  to  find  fault  with  you." 


326  Who  did  it? 

"  Well,  sir,"  rejoined  the  old  officer,  "  you  will  observe  that 
the  pistols  did  not  arrive  in  any  case  before  two  or  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  yet,  if  you  remember,  they  were  found 
in  his  possession  in  the  forenoon  of  the  next  day.  How  did 
he  get  them  ?  Let  him  explain  if  he  can." 

All  present  looked  at  Graves ;  but  he  remained  as  before, 
doggedly  silent 

"Do  you  mean  to  explain,  Graves?"  asked  Doctor  Thorn- 
ton. 

"  I  mean  to  say  nothing,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Your  demeanour  is  strange,"  said  the  headmaster ;  "  but 
still,  Captain  Gurdon,  this  will  not  prove  your  point  You 
mean  of  course  that  Graves  went  out  early  on  the  morning  of 
the  i  gth;  that  the  dog  attacked  him,  and  that  he  shot  him 
with  the  pistols  he  had  just  received?" 

"  Just  so,  Doctor,"  assented  the  Captain. 

"But  you  have  to  prove  two  things,"  rejoined  the  head- 
master. "First,  that  he  went  out  that  morning;  secondly, 
that  while  out  he  shot  Neptune.  You  cannot  assume  either 
fact" 

"  I  don't  mean  to  do  so.  I  have  here  the  deposition  of 
Hugh  Gray,  taken  this  morning  by  Mr  John  Smollett,  solicitor's 
clerk,  here  present,  which  with  your  favour  I  will  read  out. 
It  will  determine  one  of  the  points  to  which  you  refer,  if  not 
both." 

Every  eye  was  turned  upon  Graves  as  these  words  were 
spoken.  Even  his  iron  nerve  could  not  prevent  his  giving  a 
slight  start  as  he  heard  Hugh  Gray's  name. 

"  Hugh  Gray  states,"  said  Captain  Gurdon,  "  that  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  i8th  of  August,  he  was  engaged  by  a  young 


Aye,  who  indeed  !  327 

gentleman,  whose  name  he  has  since  ascertained  to  be  Graves, 
and  who  is  a  pupil  at  this  school  here,  to  go  to  the  coach- 
office  at  the  Anchor  at  Walescliff,  and  ask  for  a  small  wooden 
case  which  was  to  come  by  the  night  coach,  that  he  did  go  to 
the  coach-office  about  half-past  three  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
he  believes,  and  took  the  case  up  to  the  Priory,  where  Mr 
Graves  was  waiting  to  receive  it — " 

"  Waiting,"  repeated  Dr  Thornton.     "  Where  ?" 

"  He  was  inside  the  gate,  looking  through  the  small  slit  in 
it.  Mr  Graves  called  him  to  fetch  a  ladder,  which  was  stand- 
ing against  a  barn  hard  by,  because  the  box  was  too  large  to 
be  passed  through  the  opening  in  the  gate.  Hugh  did  place 
it,  and  mounted  to  the  top  of  the  wall  and  then  helped  Mr 
Graves  up — " 

"  Helped  Mr  Graves  up,"  again  repeated  the  Doctor. 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  can  produce  plenty  of  proof  that  though  it  is 
impossible  to  clamber  up  the  wall  on  the  outside,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  do  so  on  the  inside  with  a  little  help." 

"  As  soon  as  Mr  Graves  was  on  the  top  of  the  wall,"  re- 
sumed Captain  Gurdon,  "he  took  the  pistol  case  and  paid 
the  money ;  and  Hugh  began  descending  the  ladder,  but  his 
foot  slipped  and  he  fell  off,  hurting  himself  severely.  He  was 
unable  to  rise,  and  Graves  was  obliged  to  descend  the  ladder 
and  help  him.  He  says,  he  believes  Graves  carried  him  to 
the  barn  and  laid  him  on  some  straw ;  but  he  was  light-headed 
and  can  remember  nothing  clearly  till  he  found  himself  being 
lifted  into  a  carrier's  cart,  when  he  again  relapsed  into  half- 
consciousness  ;  but  he  distinctly  remembers  hearing  soon 
afterwards  the  angry  barking  of  a  dog,  and  a  pistol  shot  which 
followed.  This  deposition,  sir,  was  taken  down,  verbatim,  in 


328  Who  did  it? 

my  hearing.  I  should  wish  to  ask  whether  the  person  whom 
it  inculpates — Stephen  Graves — denies  its  accuracy." 

"You  hear.  Graves,"  said  Dr  Thornton,  "you  will  surely 
give  some  answer  to  Captain  Gurdon's  appeal." 

"  I  have  already  said  I  don't  mean  to  say  anything  more," 
returned  Graves. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it.  I  cannot  disguise  that  your  silence 
must  needs  prejudice  your  case.  Well,  Captain  Gurdon,  have 
you  anything  more  to  say." 

"  Only  that  I  wish  you  would  yourselves  examine  the  carrier. 
He  will  tell  his  own  story." 

"  Very  well.     Mr  Giles,  what  have  you  to  tell  us  ?" 

"  Only,  sir,  that  on  the  morning  of  the  day,  Captain  Gurdon 
speaks  of,  the  igth  of  August — 

"  How  do  you  know  that  was  the  day?" 

"  It  was  a  Saturday.  I  always  drives  my  cart  from  Wales- 
cliff  to  Haverport  every  Saturday  during  the  summer  months. 
Saturday,  August  iQth,  was  the  last  day  on  which  I  made  the 
journey  this  year.  I  was  very  early  that  day,  as  I  wanted  to 
get  home.  It  wanted  ten  or  twelve  minutes  to  four  when  I 
was  passing  under  the  wall  of  Dr  Thornton's  house.  I  heard 
some  one  calling  to  me,  and  saw  this  young  gentleman,  whose 
name  you  say  is  Graves.  He  told  me  that  there  was  a  lad 
hurt  by  a  fall,  and  that  he  believed  he  lived  at  Trawler's  Gate. 
1  Did  I  know  the  place?' 

"  I  told  him  I  knew  the  place  and  the  lad  too — it  was  Hugh 
Gray,  and  I  should  pass  not  above  a  hundred  yards  from  his 
father's  cottage.  '  Very  well,'  says  he,  '  then  you'd  better  take 
him  home,  and  here's  half-a-crown  to  pay  his  fare.'  I  agreed, 
and  we  lifted  the  boy  into  the  cart  and  laid  him  on  some 


Aye,  who  indeed  !  329 

sacks.  Then  he  points  out  a  ladder  which  was  resting  against 
the  wall  of  the  house,  and  tells  me  it  was  to  be  put  back  into 
the  barn  as  soon  as  he'd  got  up.  Then  he  gives  me  the  half- 
crown — he  paid  me  all  fair,  I  must  say  that — and  mounts  the 
ladder,  and  stood  on  the  top  of  the  wall  watching  me  while  I 
put  the  ladder  back.  That  was  the  last  I  saw  of  him  until 
this  morning." 

"Have  you  any  doubt  that  Mr  Graves  is  the  gentleman 
you  saw  ? "  asked  Colonel  Wilder,  who  had  not  spoken 
before. 

"  No,  Colonel,  no  doubt  at  all.  I'd  swear  to  him  at  'sizes 
if  I  was  asked." 

"  Very  well.  Did  you  see  or  hear  anything  more  connected 
with  this  matter  ?  " 

"  About  a  minute  or  two  after  I  had  turned  the  corner  of 
the  road  beyond  the  house,  I  heard  a  big  dog  bark,  and  then 
a  shot  fired." 

"  That  was  a  minute  or  two  after  you  had  parted  from  Mr 
Graves  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  parted  with  him  when  I  moved  the  ladder,  but 
I  saw  him  on  the  top  of  the  wall  as  the  cart  started.  It  might 
be  two  or  three  minutes  after  I  lost  sight  of  him  before  I  heard 
the  shot" 

"  You  have  nothing  more  to  add  ?  "  asked  Dr  Thornton. 
"  Nothing  more,  sir." 

"  Graves,"  said  the  headmaster,  "if  you  are  still  so  unwise 
as  to  refuse  to  speak,  it  cannot  be  helped.  But  it  is  my  duty 
to  inquire  whether  you  mean  to  put  any  questions  to  this 
man.  If  you  do  not,  I  must  assume  that  you  allow  his 
evidence  to  be  true." 


330  Who  did  it  / 

This  time  Graves  made  no  response  at  all. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Captain  Gurdon  after  a  short  pause,  "  I 
presume  you  will  now  allow  that  the  case  is  clear  against 
Graves." 

"  I  should  like  to  say  a  few  words  to  my  brother  magistrate 
before  giving  any  opinion,"  answered  Dr  Thornton. 

Colonel  Wilder  and  the  Doctor  conferred  apart  for  a  few 
minutes.  Then  the  latter  spoke  again. 

"  Putting  together  all  the  evidence  we  have  heard  to-day, 
together  with  that  which  was  adduced  on  the  former  occasion, 
Colonel  Wilder  and  myself  are  of  opinion  that  it  amounts  to 
moral  proof  against  Graves,  though  it  may  be  that  a  jury  would 
hesitate  to  convict  him.  There  is  the  fact  that  Neptune  was 
certainly  loose  in  the  courtyard  at  the  time  when  Giles  saw 
him  on  the  top  of  the  wall  just  about  to  get  down  into  it,  and 
just  before  the  shot  was  fired  :  that  the  dog  bore  a  notorious 
dislike  to  Graves,  and  that  Graves  had  expressed  his  inten- 
tion of  shooting  him,  if  he  ever  attacked  him :  there  is  the 
tear  in  Graves'  trousers  ;  and  lastly,  Cobbe's  statement  that 
he  saw  Graves  pass  the  window,  with  a  pistol  open  in  his 
hand,  only  a  minute  or  two  after  the  report  was  heard.  This 
appears  to  us  very  strong,  if  not  absolutely  conclusive  evidence. 
To  this  must  be  added  the  fact  that  Graves  refused  to  explain 
any  of  the  suspicious  circumstances,  or  to  challenge  in  any  way 
the  testimony  of  the  witnesses.  I  consider  what  has  been 
brought  forward  quite  sufficient  to  justify  me  in  acting  upon  it, 
and  mean  to  do  so.  But  before  saying  how  I  mean  to  deal 
with  Graves's  case,  I  must  hear  Baines — that  is,  unless  what 
has  been  now  alleged  induces  him  to  withdraw  his  charge 
against  Temple.  How  is  that,  Baines  ?  " 


Aye,  who  indeed !  331 

"  I  don't  consider  that  anything  the  Captain  has  stated 
alters  the  case,  sir.  I  say  again,  he's  mistaken,  and  I  can 
prove  it" 

"  Very  well.     Go  on  with  your  proof  then." 

"  I  wish  to  say  in  the  first  place,"  said  the  constable,  "  that 
on  the  morning  of  the  igth  of  August  a  search  was  made  for 
the  pistol  with  which  the  dog  had  been  shot,  and  it  was  be- 
lieved that  it  couldn't  be  found.  That  was  a  mistake.  The 
pistol  was  picked  up  by  Mr  Hepburn  in  a  patch  of  long  grass, 
very  near  the  place  where  the  body  of  the  dog  was  found." 

"  It  was  ! "  exclaimed  Captain  Gurdon.  "  Why  has  nothing 
been  said  about  it  then  ?  " 

"  We  had  our  reasons,  Capting.  The  pistol  found  had  been 
lately  discharged.  I  made  inquiries  in  all  directions,  to  find 
out  to  whom  it  belonged.  I  asked  Colonel  Wilder  among 
others " 

"  Certainly  you  did,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  but  I  had  no  such 
pistol,  as  you  described,  in  my  possession,  and  never  had  had 
one." 

"  You  hadn't,  Colonel ;  but  your  friend  Colonel  M'Grath 
left  a  brace  in  Mr  Harry's  charge.  They  were  rather  old- 
fashioned,  though  I  daresay  very  good  articles.  They  had  a 
lot  of  Indian  carved  work  about  the  stocks  and  the  letters  M. 
M'G. " 

"  I  remember  them  perfectly,"  exclaimed  Colonel  Wilder. 
"  Did  M'Grath  leave  them  in  your  charge,  Harry  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  his  son  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Well,  Dr  Thornton,"  pursued  Baines.  "  The  Capting  has 
said  truly  that  there  was  a  pistol  match  got  up  between  the 
young  gentlemen,  and  I  daresay  Mr  Graves  wrote  home  for 


332  W/iodidit? 

some  pistols  to  shoot  it  with.  But  Mr  Temple,  he  wanted  a 
pistol  for  the  purpose  too,  and  he  borrowed  his'n'  of  Mr 
Harry,  there." 

"  It  was  brought  up  late  at  night,"  resumed  the  constable  ; 
"  late  on  Friday  night.  Mr  Temple,  he  went  out,  after  the 
house  was  locked,  to  fetch  it.  The  dog  followed  him  out  —  " 

"  Wait  a  little,"  interrupted  Dr  Thornton,  "we  are  getting 
on  too  fast  by  a  good  deal.  First  of  all,  Mr  Harry  Wilder, 
did  Temple  borrow  the  pistol  of  you,  and  did  you  bring  it  up 
to  Holmwood  late  at  night  ?  " 

"  I  will  spare  Harry  the  pain  of  answering  the  question," 
said  Temple.  "  I  did  borrow  the  pistol.  I  only  am  to  blame, 
so  far.  Harry  did  not  bring  it  up  to  the  house  at  all.  I  left 
it  outside  in  the  shrubbery  when  I  came  in  just  before  supper. 
I  was  afraid  some  one  would  see  it  if  I  brought  it  in  with  me. 
I  meant  to  go  out  and  fetch  it  in  afterwards." 

"  How  could  you  do  that,"  asked  the  headmaster,  "  after 
the  house  had  been  locked  up  ?  " 

Temple  made  no  answer. 

.  "  Speak,  Temple,  I  insist  There  is  some  strange  mystery 
here.  If  you  want  to  be  believed,  keep  nothing  back.  Will 
you  explain  this  ?  " 

"  I  would  rather  say  no  more,  sir." 

"  That  was,  if  I  remember  right,  exactly  your  answer  when 
you  were  first  questioned,  and  you  denied  all  knowledge  of 
the  death  of  the  dog.  But  now " 

"  If  you'd  forgive  me  for  interrupting  you,  sir,"  broke  in 
Baines,  "  I  can  explain  the  difficulty.  There's  a  bar  loose  in 
one  of  the  school-room  windows,  by  which  Mr  Temple  got 
out  of  the  house — he'll  not  deny  that " 


Aye,  who  indeed !  333 

"  In  the  school-room  ?  "  exclaimed  the  Doctor ;  "  in  the 
hall  they  told  me " 

"  Ah,  that  was  a  different  matter,  said  the  constable,  "  that 
was  an  accident  One  of  the  stanchions  had  got  rusty,  and  a 
chance  blow  had  knocked  it  out.  The  bar  in  the  school  is 
different.  The  screws  have  been  taken  in  and  out  of  that  a 
good  many  times,  I  judge.  Mr  Temple,  I  say,  won't  deny 
that " 

Dr  Thornton  glanced  at  the  boy  named,  and  saw  that 
indeed  he  could  not  deny  it. 

"I  am  sorry  for  this,"  he  said,  "but  still  matters  are  not 
explained  now.  The  loose  bar  will  account  for  Temple's  hav- 
ing been  able  to  get  out  of  the  house,  but  not  for  his  getting 
out  into  the  shrubbery,  whither,  however,  he  must  have  gone, 
if  he  did  shoot  the  blood-hound  as  you  suppose." 

."  I  couldn't  have  explained  that  till  last  night,  sir.  But  last 
night  I  learned — what,  I'll  wager,  neither  you  nor  any  of  your 
ushers  knows — that  there's  a  secret  way  out  from  one  of  the 
old  wash-houses  in  the  servants'  court,  through  the  wall  into 
the  shrubbery.  I  see  Mr  Temple  go  out  that  way  with  my 
own  eyes  last  night.  That's  the  way  he  used  to  get  out,  I 
s'pose,  years  back,  when  we  couldn't  make  out  how  he  managed 
to  pay  his  visits  at  night  to  the  billiard-room — that's  the  way 
he  went  out  on  the  night  of  the  1 8th  of  August  last  to  fetch 
the  pistol  in.  The  dog  followed  him — didn't  know  him  in 
the  dark,  and  flew  at  him.  The  young  gentleman  didn't  want 
to  hurt  the  dog,  I  don't  doubt.  But  he  was  flustered  and 
mayhap  frightened,  for  that  there  brute  wasn't  a  pleasant  one 
to  fight  with.  Anyhow,  Mr  Temple  ups  with  his  pistol,  and 
shoots  him  through  the  heart — that's  my  view  of  the  job, 
anyway." 


334  Who  did  it  r{ 

"  You've  said  nothing  about  the  missing  pair  of  trousers," 
remarked  the  Doctor. 

"  No,  sir,  because  I  found  there  was  nothing  in  that.  I  lit 
on  Mrs  Meggots  one  day  about  six  weeks  ago.  She  said  she 
had  lent  the  young  gent  the  clothes,  and  had  taken  a  pair  of 
his  trousers  as  a  security  for  them,  as  he  had  no  money.  But 
Mr  Temple  never  brought  the  clothes  back,  so  she'd  sold 
them." 

"Well,  Dr  Thornton,"  said  Captain  Gurdon,  "I  don't  know 
how  you  may  take  this,  but  for  my  part,  I  can't  see  that 
Baines  has  made  Out  nearly  such  a  good  case  against  Temple 
as  I  shewed  you  against  Graves.  Just  look  at  the  difference 
betwixt  the  two ;  Graves  disliked  my  dog,  and  was  heard  to 
threaten  to  shoot  him  only  a  day  or  two  before  this  happened. 
Temple  was  always  very  kind  to  him,  and  I  won't  believe  he 
would  do  anything  to  hurt  him." 

Temple  looked  up  for  the  first  time,  and  cast  a  glance  of 
gratitude  at  the  Captain,  who  went  on. 

"  Then  the  dog  was  as  fond  of  Temple  as  he  was  of  the  dog. 
The  lad  would  never  have  hurt  him,  and  he'd  never  have 
attacked  the  lad.  But  Nep  knew  his  enemies,  as  a  dog 
always  does,  and  it's  likely  enough  if  he  met  Graves  at  that 
hour  in  the  morning,  he'd  fly  at  him,  especially  if  Graves 
spoke  to  him  crossly,  as  I  can  prove  he  often  did.  Then, 
again,  about  this  getting  out  Baines  says,  there's  a  way  of 
getting  out  of  the  school-room,  and  another  of  getting  through 
some  passage  or  other  through  the  wall,  and  he  can  prove 
that  Temple  got  out  that  way  on  one  occasion.  But  neither 
he  nor  anyone  else  saw  or  can  prove  that  Temple  got  out 
that  way  on  the  night  when  Neptune  was  killed,  or  that  he 


Aye,  who  indeed !  335 

got  out  at  all  that  night.  On  the  other  hand,  it's  been  proved 
as  clear  as  the  day,  that  Graves  was  out,  was  seen  out  by 
more  than  one  person,  just  about  the  time  the  dog  was  shot. 
Baines  makes  a  good  deal  of  Temple  having  borrowed  the 
pistol  to  shoot  this  match.  I  take  it  the  two  boys  stand  in 
the  same  predicament  so  far  as  that's  concerned.  They  both 
got  their  pistols  for  the  same  purpose.  But  Graves's  pistols, 
it  is  said,  hadn't  been  fired,  and  Temple's  had.  Well,  it's 
been  shewn  already,  there  was  plenty  of  time  between  four 
o'clock  and  ten  for  Graves  to  have  cleaned  his  pistol,  even  if 
he  had  fired  it.  But  who  knows  that  he  didn't  shoot  the  dog 
after  all  with  Temple's  pistol.  It  had  been  left  lying  outside 
most  likely,  left  ready  loaded,  as  boys  are  apt  to  leave  their 
pistols." 

"Was  the  pistol  you  lent  to  Temple,  loaded,  Harry?" 
asked  Colonel  Wilder  of  his  son. 

"  Yes,  sir,  it  was,"  said  Harry.  "  I  had  brought  it  loaded, 
because  Temple  wanted  to  try  it  before  taking  it  up  to  Holm- 
wood.  But  there  wasn't  time,  and  he  took  it  away  with  him 
almost  immediately  after  we  met." 

"  I  thought  as  much,"  said  the  Captain.  "  Well,  then,  why 
shouldn't  Graves  have  seen  the  pistol  lie  upon  the  ground, 
and  when  the  dog  attacked  him,  caught  it  up  and  shot  him 
with  it?  What  do  you  say  to  that,  Baines?" 

"  I  say  that  you've  taken  no  notice,  sir,  of  the  fact  that  Mr 
Temple  tried  to  get  out  of  the  house  late  that  night,  and  that 
he  can't  deny  that  he  did  go  out  that  night" 

"  Captain  Gurdon  glanced  at  Temple.  "  I  didn't  hear  that," 
he  said,  "  and  I  don't  know  it  now.  Can't  you  say  that  you 
didn't  go  out  that  night,  Charlie?"  he  asked 


336  Who  did  it? 

Temple  made  no  reply. 

There  was  a  pause,  and  then  Colonel  Wilder  said,  "  I  con- 
clude we  have  now  heard  all.  Thornton,  will  you  step  aside 
with  me  somewhere  for  a  few  minutes.  I  should  like  to  con- 
sult with  you  before  we  come  to  any  determination." 

The  two  magistrates  accordingly  retired  into  the  Doctor's 
study,  and  were  absent  nearly  half  an  hour.  During  this 
interval,  the  boys  kept  their  places  and  conversed  together  in 
low  tones.  Graves  leaned,  hardy  and  defiant,  with  folded 
arms  against  his  bureau.  Depressed  and  downcast,  Temple 
sat  at  his  desk  with  his  face  buried  in  his  hands.  Cobbe  took 
the  opportunity  of  moving  up  unnoticed  to  the  place  where 
Cressingham  was  standing,  and  slipped  a  note  into  his  hand. 

"  I  promised  to  give  you  this,  sir,  on  the  first  opportunity," 
he  whispered. 

Cressingham  took  it  mechanically,  but  he  was  too  deeply 
absorbed  by  what  he  had  just  been  hearing  to  pay  much  heed 
to  it.  Presently  the  door  opened,  the  two  magistrates  re- 
appeared and  took  their  seats.  All  present  leaned  eagerly 
forward  to  hear  what  they  would  say. 

"  Colonel  Wilder  and  myself  have  considered  this  matter 
most  carefully,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  and  we  are  agreed  that  it's 
impossible  to  come  to  any  decision  on  the  information  now 
before  us.  It  is  a  singular  fact  that  the  case  against  either 
boy  might  be  held  conclusive,  and  probably  would  be  held  so 
in  any  court  of  justice,  if  it  were  not  for  the  case  against  the 
other.  We  have  no  choice  but  to  adjourn  the  inquiry.  It  is 
possible  that  some  evidence  may  be  forthcoming  which  will 
determine  the  matter.  It  is  also  possible — I  trust,  I  may  add, 
it  is  likely — that  the  real  offender  will,  on  consideration,  have 


Aye,  ivho  indeed!  337 

the  grace  to  confess  his  guilt,  and  relieve  his  school-fellow 
from  the  undeserved  opprobrium  now  attaching  to  him. 
Temple  and  Graves  must  remain  close  prisoners  in  their 
rooms  for  the  next  twenty-four  hours,  when  Colonel  Wilder 
and  myself  will  resume  the  inquiry.  In  the  meanwhile,  all 
possible  efforts  will  be  made  to  obtain  further  evidence.  Boys, 
you  had  better  go  into  the  play-ground.  Afternoon  school 
will  be  as  usual." 

The  assembly  slowly  dispersed,  the  boys  unusually  silent 
and  thoughtful.  Their  elders  were  to  the  full  as  much  per- 
plexed. Even  the  veteran  Colonel  Wilder  muttered  to  him- 
self, as  he  left  the  house  on  his  way  homeward,  "  I  never 
knew  such  a  puzzle  as  this  !  I  would  give  twenty  pounds  to 
the  fellow  who  would  tell  me,  '  Who  did  it?'" 


CHAPTER    XXII. 


A   STRANGE    RESOLVE. 

CRESSINGHAM  walked  out  into  the  play-ground,  as  much  wrapt 
in  thought  as  any  of  his  companions.  He  had  entirely  for- 
gotten the  note  put  into  his  hand,  and  was  only  reminded  of 
it  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards  by  Tom  Cobbe ;  who  came 
up  to  him  as  he  was  leaning  against  one  corner  of  the  play- 
ground wall,  and  said,  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr  Cressingham, 
but  ain't  there  no  answer  to  Mr  Burton's  note  ?  " 

Cressingham  started.  "  Mr  Burton's  note,"  he  repeated  ; 
"  oh,  what  you  gave  me  in  the  school-room,  I  suppose ;  I  had 
quite  forgotten  it." 

He  opened  it  as  he  spoke,  and  ran  his  eye  hastily  through 
it.  It  contained  an  urgent  request  from  his  friend  to  go  to 
him  immediately. 

"  Tell  him  I'll  come  at  once,"  he  said,  "  if  I  can  get  per- 
mission." 

He  applied  accordingly  to  Mr  Wilkes,  but  received  for 
answer  the  information  that  Dr  Thornton  had  gone  out,  but 
had  left  strict  orders  that  no  one  was  to  go  up  to  the  boys' 
bed-rooms  on  any  account  during  his  absence. 

"  But  that  refers  to  Graves  and  Temple,  sir,  does  it  not  ? ' 


A  Strange  Resolve.  339 

said  Cressingham.  "  I  don't  want  to  see  either  of  them.  It 
is  Burton,  sir.  He  is  ill,  and  he  has  sent  a  message  to  say  he 
wants  me  to  come  to  him." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can't  help  that,  Cressingham,"  said  the  usher. 
"  It  is  very  probable  that  you  may  be  right,  but  the  orders  are 
positive  not  to  allow  any  one  to  go  up  to  the  bed-rooms  at  all. 
But  I  daresay  the  Doctor  won't  be  long.  Meanwhile,"  he 
added,  good-naturedly,  "  I  will  go  up  to  Burton  myself,  and  if 
he  wants  anything  I  can  get  him,  or  there's  any  message  he 
wants  delivered  to  you,  I  can  manage  it." 

Mr  Wilkes  did  not  return  to  the  school-room  before  dinner 
time,  and  the  Doctors  absence  from  home  lasted  until  after- 
noon school  had  begun,  when  he  hurried  in  just  in  time  to 
take  his  class.  At  four  o'clock,  however,  Mr  Wilkes  called  up 
Cressingham. 

"  I  have  seen  Dr  Thornton,"  he  said,  "  and  have  got  leave 
for  you  to  go  up  to  Burton.  It  was  well  I  caught  him,  for  he's 
going  over  immediately  to  Trawler's  Gate.  After  that  he's 
engaged,  he  tells  me,  to  dine  at  Lord  Wandesborough's,  where 
he  is  to  sleep.  Probably  he  will  not  be  back  again  before 
morning  school  to-morrow." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Cressingham  ;  "  then  I  may  go  up 
to  Clement  immediately  ?  " 

"  You  may,"  said  the  usher.  "  But  I  should  warn  you  that 
your -friend  is  in  a  very  anxious  and  excited  state.  He  would 
hear  all  that  had  taken  place  in  the  school  this  morning.  I 
told  him  it  was  very  bad  for  him  to  excite  himself  so,  and  he 
had  better  wait  to  hear  about  it  until  he  was  better.  But  like 
all  invalids,  he  was  fretful  and  unreasonable,  and  would  hear 
everything.  I  thought  it  better  to  tell  him  than  to  leave  him 


340  Who  did  it  ? 

to  fidget  himself  about  it.  But  the  less  you  say  to  him  the 
better.  I  shall  ask  Dr  Everard  to  give  him  a  composing 
draught  to-night,  and  a  good  night's  rest  will  probably  do  him 
a  world  of  good." 

Cressingham  hastened  upstairs  accordingly,  and  passing  the 
closely-locked  doors  of  the  rooms  where  the  two  suspects  were 
confined,  entered  Burton's  chamber.  He  found  his  friend 
pacing  up  and  down  its  narrow  dimensions,  like  a  wild  beast 
in  a  cage.  "  Oh,  Fred  ! "  he  exclaimed,  as  the  latter  entered, 
"  where  have  you  been  all  this  time  ?  I  didn't  think  you'd 
have  forgotten  me  in  this  way." 

"  I'm  very  sorry,  Clem,  I  am  sure,  but  I've  only  just  this 
moment  obtained  leave  to  come  up  to  you." 

"  Have  you  got  any  letter  for  me  ?  Was  there  any  letter  by 
this  afternoon's  post  ?  It  must  have  been  in  half-an-hour." 

"  I  don't  think  the  letters  had  been  brought  in  when  I  left 
the  play-ground,"  said  Cressingham.  "  I  was  some  time  talk- 
ing to  Wilkes.  But  I'll  go  down  and  ask  Cobbe." 

He  went  accordingly,  and  returned  in  a  few  minutes  with 
the  information  that  the  letters  had  arrived  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  ago,  but  there  was  nothing  for  Burton. 

"  Nothing,"  exclaimed  Burton,  in  a  tone  of  the  greatest 
distress ;  "  are  you  quite  sure,  Fred  ?  Oh,  whatever  shall  I 
do?" 

"Whatever  is  the  matter,  Clem?"  exclaimed  Cressingham, 
beginning  to  be  apprehensive  that  his  friend  was  seriously  ill. 
"  As  for  the  letters,  there's  certainly  no  mistake.  There  were 
but  two — I  asked  Cobbe  myself — and  they  were  both  for  Dr 
Thornton." 

"  For  Dr  Thornton  ?    Was  one  of  them  from  Wjckfield  ?  " 


A  Strange  Resolve.  341 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  Cressingh'am,  still  more 
astonished  at  his  companion's  tone.  "  I  don't  suppose  Cobbe 
noticed  the  post-marks.  At  all  events  he  didn't  tell  me  any- 
thing about  them." 

"Go  and  ask  him — please  go  and  ask  him — please  go  and 
ask  him  at  once !  "  cried  Burton. 

"  Clem,  my  dear  fellow,  don't  excite  yourself  in  this  way," 
said  Cressingham.  "  You'll  make  yourself  ill — worse  than  you 
are." 

"  I'm  not  ill  in  body,  Fred.  You  mistake  altogether.  Please 
go  and  ask  Cobbe  if  the  post-mark  of  one  of  the  letters  was 
Wickfield,  and  then  ask  if  I  can  see  the  Doctor  at  once." 

Cressingham  hesitated,  but  it  seemed  the  wisest  course  to 
go  and  ask  the  question  of  the  school  servant.  If  Burton 
obtained  the  information  he  wanted,  he  might  be  quieted  by 
it ;  if  he  did  not,  in  all  likelihood  he  would  continue  to  worry 
himself.  He  descended  the  stairs  accordingly  a  second  time, 
and  presently  reappeared. 

"  Cobbe  did  not  notice  the  post-mark  on  either  letter,"  he 
reported.  "  I  am  sorry  to  say  you  cannot  see  the  Doctor.  He 
went  out  again  a  quarter  of  an  hour  ago." 

"  When  will  he  return  ?  "  asked  Burton.  "  Did  you  ask  if 
I  could  see  him  as  soon  as  he  came  in  ?  " 

"  He  won't  be  in  again  at  all  to-day,"  returned  Cressingham. 

"  You  don't  mean  that !  You  can't  mean  that ! "  cried  his 
school-fellow.  "  Oh,  Fred,  this  is  not  kind  of  you." 

"  I  assure  you  I'm  telling  you  the  simple  fact,"  said  Cres- 
singham, earnestly.  "  The  Doctor  is  engaged  to  dine  and 
sleep  at  Wandesborough  Castle  to-night,  and  probably  won't 
return  before  morning  school  to-morrow.  Mr  Wilkes  distinctly 
told  me  so." 


342  Who  did  it? 

"Morning  school  to-morrow,"  repeated  Burton.  "And 
this  inquiry — about  Temple  and  Graves,  I  mean — when  is 
that  to  be  resumed  ?  " 

"The  inquiry  about  the  dog?"  said  Cressingham.  "  Oh,  I 
suppose  at  twelve  o'clock  to-morrow.  That's  what  Thornton 
said  this  morning,  if  I  remember  right" 

"  Twelve  o'clock,"  exclaimed  Burton.  "  What  is  the  time 
now?" 

"  Ten  minutes  past  four,"  returned  Cressingham,  consulting 
his  watch. 

"Ah,  too  late  for  the  afternoon  post.  What  is  to  be 
done?" 

There  was  silence  for  some  minutes.  Cressingham  looked 
anxiously  at  his  friend,  whose  appearance  and  demeanour,  so 
different  from  the  common,  bewildered  and  alarmed  him. 
Burton  sat  lost  in  thought.  At  last  he  spoke,  but  in  quite  a 
different  tone.  "  Fred,  old  fellow,  you  and  I  have  been 
friends  for  a  great  many  years." 

"  Yes,  Clem,"  responded  Cressingham,  "  and  I  hope  we 
always  shall  be  so." 

"Thank  you.  And  I  think  you  can  trust  me  to  speak  the 
truth." 

"  If  I  couldn't  trust  you,  I  couldn't  trust  any  one,"  was  the 
answer. 

"  Thank  you  once  more.  Well,  then,  I  have  something  to 
tell  you.  I  am  in  a  terrible  fix.  I  can't  explain  to  you  what 
it  is,  because  it's  another  fellow's  secret,  and  I  have  promised 
to  keep  it.  You  understand  that's  my  only  reason  for  not 
telling  you." 

"  All  right,  Clem,  go  on." 


A  Strange  Resolve.  343 

"  I  must  get  an  answer  from — from  a  person  at  Wickfield ; 
get  an  answer  before  twelve  to-morrow.  The  post,  you  see, 
is  gone.  Indeed,  I  question  whether  I  could  have  got  an 
answer  that  way,  even  if  it  hadn't.  Can  you  think  of  any  one 
who  can  take  a  note  over  there  and  bring  a  reply  ?  " 

Cressingham  pondered  awhile.  "James  Gunn  might  do  it 
perhaps,"  he  said,  "  but  I'm  afraid  the  chances  are  that  he'll 
have  gone  over  to  Haverport  with  his  boat.  He  said  yester- 
day he  was  going,  and  very  likely  old  Gunn  will  go  with  him. 
Of  course,  Cobbe  couldn't  be  spared.  And  besides,  I  suppose 
you  wouldn't  want  this  matter  mentioned,  Clem  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  of  course  not,"  said  Burton,  nervously. 

"  Then  really,  Clem,  I'm  afraid  I  can't  think  of  any  one. 
If  one  could  get  out  and  go  down  into  Walesclirf,  somebody 
might  be  found,  I  daresay,  though  even  then  there'd  be  a 
difficulty  about  their  saying  nothing  about  the  matter;  but 
one  couldn't  get  leave  to  go  down  into  Walescliff  without 
saying  what  one  wanted  to  go  down  for." 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  Burton.  "  Well,  then,  Fred,  there's 
only  one  thing  for  it — I  must  go  to  Wickfield  myself." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Cressingham,  "go  to  Wickfield? 
You  ?  When  must  you  go,  and  how  ?  " 

"Now — this  very  night,"  returned  Burton,  "on  my  own 
legs,  I  suppose." 

Cressingham  stared  at  him  as  though  he  thought  his  friend 
had  lost  his  senses. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  he  said  at  last,  "  something  has  upset 
you  altogether.  You  had  better  go  to  bed  and  get  a  good 
night's  rest.  Then  you'll  be  able  to  judge  of  this  matter 
better " 


344  WIio  did  it  ? 

"  It  would  be  no  use  judging  the  matter  to-morrow.  I 
must  have  an  answer  from  Wickfield  before  twelve  o'clock." 

"  Before  twelve — twelve  to-morrow,  that  is — when  the 
Doctor  is  going  to  inquire  into  this  matter  of  Graves's  and 
Temple's  again  ?  Clem,  I  don't  want  to  pry  into  your  secrets, 
but  I  can't  help  fancying  it  has  some  connection  with  that 
business." 

"  Well,  Fred,  it  has.  I  must  admit  it,  though  I  would  not 
do  so  if  I  could  help  it." 

"You  know  which  of  these  two  fellows  did  it,  and  you 
have  the  means  of  proving  it,  but  you  must  bring  some  one 
from  Wickfield  for  the  purpose,  is  that  it  ?  Or  can  it  possibly 
be  ?  "  he  added,  as  a  number  of  circumstances  presented  them- 
selves suddenly  to  his  recollection — Burton's  suppression  of 
Temple's  knowledge  of  the  secret  passage,  and  of  his  attempt  to 
go  out  of  the  house  on  the  i8th,  his  determination  not  to 
believe  him  guilty  of  Neptune's  death,  and  his  apparent  con- 
nivance in  Temple's  outstripping  him  in  the  competition  for 
the  Hawley  prize — "  can  it  possibly  be  that  you  yourself — I 
beg  your  pardon,  Clem,  I  ought  not  for  a  moment  to  have 
fancied  such  a  thing " 

"  It  was  not  very  friendly,  I  must  say  that,  Fred,"  rejoined 
Burton,  somewhat  reproachfully.  "  Please  say  no  more  about 
that." 

"  No,  I  won't,  I  did  not  really  mean  it.  You  might  have 
done  it,  Clem,  of  course.  Any  one  of  us  might  have  done  it. 
But  I  know  quite  well  that  if  by  any  unlucky  chance  you  had 
killed  poor  Nep,  you  would  instantly  have  owned  it.  You 

would  have  told  all  you  knew — told  everything " 

"  Pray  stop,  Fred,"    interposed  Burton,  hastily.     "  There 


A  Strange  Resolve.  345 

is  no  good  in  saying  that,  even  if  it  were  all  true.  The  only 
thing  there  is  any  good  in  considering  is,  whether  you  will 
help  me  or  not." 

"  Help  you !  You  may  be  sure  I  will  help  you  to  the 
utmost  of  my  ability.  But  in  order  to  do  so  to  any  purpose, 
I  must  quite  understand  what  you  want.  You  want  a  letter 
to  be  brought  from  Wickfield — from  George  Alford,  I  suppose. 
You  have  been  in  correspondence  with  him — haven't  you — all 
this  autumn  ?  " 

"  With  George  Alford  ! "  repeated  Burton  in  great  surprise  ; 
"  George  Alford  has  been  absent  from  Wickfield  for  months 
past — ever  since  August  last.  Did  not  you  know  that  ?  I 
thought  every  one  knew  it ! " 

"  What,  I  suppose  he  could  not  put  up  with  that  Wilcoxon 
any  longer !  Well,  J  don't  wonder  at  that.  But,  Clem,  he 
had  not  left  Wickfield  when  you  told  me  all  about  him — that 
day,  you  know,  when  we  were  at  Hanger's  Cave " 

"  No,"  answered  the  other  shortly.  "  He  had  not  left 
Wickfield  then." 

"  And  where  is  he  now  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  returned  Burton.     "  I  wish  I  did." 

"  Then  who  is  the  person  from  whom  you  want  to  get  an 
answer  ? " 

"  Frank  Knyvett,"  said  Clement. 

"  Frank  Knyvett !  What,  the  son  of  old  Knyvett,  the 
lawyer  ?  I  know  him  a  little.  He  has  been  over  here  once 
or  twice.  But  what  can  he  have  to  do  with  this  business  ?  " 

"  You  mustn't  question  me,  Fred.     I  can't  answer  you." 

"  Well,  Clem,"  said  Cressingham,  after  a  few  moments  of 
reflection,  "  the  whole  thing  is  a  puzzle  to  me.  But,  after  all, 


346  Who  did  it  ? 

f 
it  does  not  signify  who  the  person  may  be  to  whom  you  wish 

to  write.  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  for  you.  See  here.  I'll  go 
to  Tom  Cobbe,  and  get  him  to  go  the  first  thing  in  the  morn- 
ing to  old  Gunn's  cottage.  If  we  give  him  half-a-crown,  he'll 
get  up  half  an  hour  earlier  than  usual.  Then  James  Gunn 
will  take  your  note  immediately  over  to  Mr  Knyvett's,  get  an 
answer,  and  be  back  here  before  twelve,  I  daresay." 

"  It  would  not  be  possible,  Fred,"  answered  Burton.  "  I  know 
exactly  how  long  it  takes  to  go  to  Wickfield.  When  I  first 
came  here  I  often  went  over  there  during  the  holidays,  and 
generally  as  fast  as  it  was  possible  to  go.  You  can't  reach 
Friarswood  Ferry  under  two  hours,  unless  you  are  on  horse- 
back. Then  it  takes  a  good  three-quarters  of  an  hour  to 
cross — it  averages  quite  that — and  it  is  another  hour  on  to 
Wickfield.  If  Jem  set  out  at  six  in  the  morning — and  I'm 
pretty  sure  Tom  wouldn't  be  persuaded  to  go  down  to  the 
cottage  so  early  as  that — he  couldn't  reach  Wickfield  before 
ten.  Then  he  would  have  to  find  Frank,  who  might  be  at 
home,  or  gone  up  to  his  office,  or,  it  might  be,  engaged  in 
business  somewhere  else ;  and  an  answer  would  have  to  be 
written  and  brought  back.  If  James  returned  by  two  o'clock, 
it  would  be  as  early  as  I  should  expect  him.  And  by  that 
time  the  inquiry  would  in  all  probability  be  over.  It  would 
be  useless  sending  a  note  in  that  manner.  There  is  only  one 
thing  for  it,  as  I  said  before.  I  must  go  over  to  Wickfield 
myself." 

"  But,  Clem,  how  could  you  manage  it  ?  " 

"  I  should  slip  out  at  the  gate,  just  before  locking  up  time. 
That  is  a  little  before  six.  I  should  then  run  down  to  the 
shore  by  the  back  lane  and  across  Speneleigh  Wood,  and  so 


A  Strange  Resolve.  347 

by  the  Ferry.  I  should  reach  Wickfield  before  ten,  I  expect. 
I  could  sleep  there  to-night,  and  start  by  the  early  coach 
which  leaves  the  town  at  six  and  passes  by  this  house  at  seven, 
or  a  quarter-past.  I  could  then  slip  in  and  go  to  bed,  before 
Mother  Edwards  came  to  my  room  in  the  morning.  I  don't 
wonder  at  your  looking  like  that,  Fred.  I  know  you  must 
think  this  very  wrong  of  me.  I  daresay  it  is.  But  I  can't 
help  it,  Fred — I  can't  help  it.  Won't  you  believe  me,  Fred, 
I  can't  help  it  ?  " 

"My  dear  old  fellow,"  said  Cressingham,  much  moved. 
"  I  believe  you,  with  all  my  heart  and  soul.  I  can't  under- 
stand it,  but  you  are,  I  know,  doing  what  you  believe  to  be 
right.  But  see  here,  Clem,  I  can  improve  on  your  plan. 
I'll  slip  out  at  six  this  evening  instead  of  you,  and  carry 
your  note  to  James  Gunn.  I've  no  doubt  he'll  start  with  it 
at  once ;  or  if  he  can't  go,  Jack  Landy  from  the  Anchor  will 
ride  his  pony  over,  and  be  back  by  ten  o'clock.  He  can 
send  or  bring  the  answer  up  in  the  morning.  That  will  be 
better  than  your  going  out,  ill  as  you  are,  this  bitter  night. 
It  has  been  freezing  sharp  all  day —  " 

"I  am  not  ill,  Fred.  I  told  you  so  before.  It  is  this 
business  that  frets  and  troubles  me,  or  I  should  be  well 
enough.  I  don't  see  why  you  are  to  run  the  risk  of  getting 
into  trouble  on  my  account.  But  I'll  take  your  advice,  so  far 
as  to  write  the  note  and  carry  it  down  to  Gunn's  cottage,  or, 
failing  that,  to  the  Anchor." 

"  And  if  neither  Gunn  nor  Landy  can  go  ? "  suggested 
Cressingham. 

"  I  shall  go  myself,"  was  the  prompt  rejoinder. 

"  Then  I  shall  certainly  go  with  you  to  see  you  off." 


348  Who  did  it  ? 

Burton  tried  to  combat  this  resolution,  but  in  vain. 
Cressingham  represented  that,  as  he  had  obtained  leave  to 
pass  the  evening  with  Burton,  he  would  not  be  missed  any 
more  than  Burton  himself,  and  if  they  made  haste,  they  would 
both  be  back  before  the  gate  was  locked.  As  it  now  wanted 
only  a  quarter  to  six,  there  was  no  time  to  argue  the  question, 
and  they  prepared  to  start  Their  great-coats  were  kept  in 
their  bedrooms — there  was  no  difficulty  therefore  about  them ; 
and  Cressingham  suggested  that  they  should  wear  their  thick 
boating  caps  instead  of  hats. 

"They'll  be  warmer,"  he  said,  "than  the  chimney-pots, 
and  we  might  have  some  difficulty  in  getting  those,  as  we 
should  have  to  carry  them  through  the  schoolroom.  We 
can  slip  the  caps  into  the  pockets  of  our  great-coats,  and  not 
put  them  on  till  we  are  clear  of  the  house.  Now,  then,  Clem, 
you  had  better  let  me  go  down  stairs  and  watch  till  the 
fellows  have  gone  in  to  supper.  Then  the  passages  will  be 
clear  for  ten  minutes  or  so,  and  we  can  get  out  of  the  house 
without  being  seen." 

Burton  assented  to  all  the  arrangements  without  objection  ; 
the  fever  of  anxiety,  which  had  possessed  him  all  day,  had 
completely  exhausted  him,  and  he  was  glad  to  put  himself 
into  his  friend's  hands.  Cressingham  managed  his  share  of 
the  business  cleverly.  He  got  behind  a  cupboard  door, 
whence  he  watched  Cobbe  and  the  women  servants  carrying 
in  mugs  and  plates,  and  afterwards  trays  of  bread,  tea-pots, 
and  jugs  of  milk.  Presently  there  came  the  supper-bell,  and 
the  clatter  of  feet  from  the  schoolroom,  and  the  noise  of  the 
boys  taking  their  places  at  the  tables.  As  soon  as  this  latter 
had  subsided,  Cressingham  crept  upstairs  and  fetched  his 


A  Strange  Resolve.  349 

companion  down.  He  noticed  the  dull  listless  air  with  which 
he  followed  him  across  the  court-yard  and  out  at  the  front 
gate,  and  was  satisfied  he  had  done  wisely  in  not  allowing 
him  to  venture  alone. 

The  lane  leading  to  Walescliff  seemed  to  be  quite  deserted. 
Not  a  single  person  was  in  sight.  The  boys  skimmed  lightly 
over  the  frosty  ground,  and  in  a  little  more  than  ten  minutes 
reached  Gunn's  cottage.  Here  they  encountered  their  first 
contretemps.  The  cottage  was  shut  up.  It  was  too  early 
for  old  Gunn  to  have  gone  to  bed.  But  the  outer  door  was 
locked,  and  they  knocked  several  times  in  vain.  "  Old  Gunn 
and  Jem  must  be  out  somewhere,"  said  Cressingham,  "  that's 
a  bore,  but  it  can't  be  helped.  I  suppose  you  wish  us  to  go 
on  to  the  '  Anchor,'  Clem  ?  " 

"Yes,  if  you  please,"  was  the  answer.  They  went  on 
accordingly.  But  here,  too,  disappointment  awaited  them. 
Jack  Landy  had  gone  out  with  his  carriage  to  take  a  gentle- 
man to  Wandesborough  Castle,  and  wouldn't  return  till  quite 
late — past  twelve  it  might  be,  and  the  horse  would  be  too 
tired  to  go  out  again,  the  landlord  thought. 

"  That's  unlucky,  Clem,"  said  Cressingham,  "  I  really  don't 
know  what's  to  be  done  now." 

"There's  nothing  for  it  but  for  me  to  go  by  myself,"  said 
Burton,  rousing  himself,  "  as  I  told  you  1  meant  to  do,  at  the 
first." 

"  You  must  not  attempt  it,  indeed  you  must  not,"  expostu- 
lated Cressingham ;  "  you  are  not  fit  to  do  it.  I  don't  know 
what  the  consequences  may  be,  if  you  persist  in  it" 

"  1  must  go,  I  tell  you,"  said  Burton.  "  It  is  no  use  talking. 
Go  back,  Fred,  and  say  nothing  about  this," 


350  Who  did  it  ? 

"  I  shan't  do  that  anyway,"  said  Cressingham.  "  If  one  of 
us  must  go,  let  it  be  me.  I  am  well  and  strong,  it  won't  hurt 
me,  though  it  will  you." 

"  I  can't  help  it,  Fred,  I  tell  you.  This  is  my  business  and 
no  one's  else,  and  I  can't  let  any  one  take  my  work  and  my 
responsibility.  Good-night,  Fred,  go  back  at  once,  there's  a 
good  fellow." 

"  Flatly,  I  won't  do  that,  then.  If  you  persist  in  going,  I 
shall  go  with  you.  I  am  quite  as  determined  as  you  are." 

"Very  well,  then,  you  must  come,"  rejoined  Burton,  "I 
can't  .prevent  your  coming,  any  more  than  you  can  prevent 
my  going  ;  and  I  can't  hang  about  here  any  longer." 

He  set  off  at  a  round  pace  as  he  spoke,  followed  by 
his  companion.  The  moon  was  clear  and  bright,  though  along 
the  edge  of  the  horizon  there  were  masses  of  heavy  clouds 
slowly  creeping  up.  The  air  too  was  certainly  not  so  sharp 
as  it  had  been  an  hour  or  two  before,  and  the  two  boys  were 
soon  in  a  glow.  They  passed  along  the  narrow  path  leading 
along  the  shore  of  the  harbour,  until  they  reached  the  stile, 
where  the  footpath  turned  off  through  Speneleigh  Wood. 
The  boys  knew  the  way  tolerably  well,  having  more  than 
once  made  excursions  to  the  "  Royal  Oak,"  and  the  moon 
gave  light  enough  to  allow  them  to  see  the  path  clearly.  It 
was  pleasant  enough  in  the  clear  cold  air  and  the  bright  moon- 
shine, with  the  healthy  glow  produced  by  exercise  pervading 
their  frames. 

Notwithstanding  this  improvement  in  their  prospects,  Cress- 
ingham resolved  to  make  one  last  effort  to  prevent  Burton 
from  persisting  in  the  expedition.  Close  to  Speneleigh  stile 
was  the  residence  of  Captain  Grimes,  the  harbour-master, 


A  Strange  Resolve.  351 

whose  name  has  occurred  several  times  already  in  these  pages. 
He  was  a  good-tempered  old  man,  and  a  favourite  with  the 
boys,  whom  he  would  sometimes  take  out  for  a  sail  in  his 
large  boat,  or  a  few  hours  fishing.  He  had  a  rough  forest 
pony,  which  was  used  for  a  variety  of  purposes — sometimes 
drawing  Mrs  Grimes,  who  was  an  invalid,  in  a  garden  chair ; 
sometimes  carrying  the  Captain  himself  when  he  wanted  to 
go  a  longer  distance  than  he  was  inclined  to  walk ;  sometimes 
drawing  a  small  cart,  which  was  sent  over  to  Horncombe  or 
Haverport  for  coals  or  groceries.  If  the  Captain  could  be 
induced  to  lend  this  pony,  and  send  his  boy  on  it  with  the  note 
to  Wickfield,  all  might  yet  be  well.  They  might  still  be  back 
before  seven  o'clock,  and  so  slip  into  the  house  before  the 
outer  gate  was  locked. 

Cressingham  accordingly  halted  when  they  had  surmounted 
the  stile,  and  proposed  going  up  to  Grimes's  house  and  ask- 
ing for  the  loan  of  the  pony.  Burton  did  not  receive  the 
suggestion  favourably.  He  was  in  a  state  of  excitement, 
aggravated  by  the  recent  disappointments,  which  rendered  him 
unusually  perverse  and  uncomplying. 

"  Grimes  wouldn't  lend  us  his  pony,"  he  said.  "  He  never 
likes  lending  it.  He  refused  to  lend  it  to  Wilkes  and  M 'Donald 
yesterday.  They  wanted  it  and  the  cart  to  take  some  of  the 
things  to  the  Royal  Oak." 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  his  refusing  that,"  remarked  Cressing- 
ham. "  I  wouldn't  lend  a  pony  to  go  on  a  party  with  some  of 
our  juniors.  But  Grimes  might  lend  it  to  us  to  ride  to  Wick- 
field—" 

"  Wickfield  ?  "  said  a  voice  close  to  them ;  "  are  you  gentle- 
men thinking  of  going  to  Wickfield  to-night  ?  " 


352  Who  did  it  \ 

The  boys  faced  quickly  round,  and  perceived  that  the  speaker 
was  Grimes  himself,  who,  with  his  pipe  in  his  mouth,  was 
strolling  homewards. 

"  Yes,  Captain,  we  are  obliged  to  go  there  or  send  a  letter 
to-night.  Can  you  help  us  ?  "  returned  Cressingham. 

"  Only  by  advising  you  to  go  back  to  Holmwood  and  wait 
till  to-morrow,  Mr  Cressingham.  And  did  I  hear  you  say 
anything  about  riding — riding  through  Speneleigh  Wood  ? 
Why,  a  horse  couldn't  keep  his  feet  with  the  path  in  the  state 
it's  in  now,  any  more  than  he  could  on  a  boy's  slide.  You  had 
better  go  back,  young  gentlemen — indeed,  you  had.  There's 
a  slight  thaw  beginning,  and  the  roads  are  worse  then  than  at 
any  other  time." 

"  We  must  go,  Captain,"  said  Burton.  "  Much  obliged  to 
you  all  the  same.  Good  night."  And  before  the  worthy 
harbour-master  could  commence  a  fresh  remonstrance,  the 
boys  were  almost  out  of  hearing. 

"He  won't  send  up  to  the  Priory,  will  he?"  suggested 
Cressingham,  "  and  say  that  he  has  met  us." 

"  I  don't  think  he  will,"  returned  Burton.  "  I  have  never 
known  him  do  anything  of  the  kind.  But  if  he  does  I  should 
not  very  greatly  care,  except  on  your  account,  Fred.  Let  me 
reach  Wickfield,  and  see  Frank  Knyvett,  and  I  don't  much 
care  what  happens." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE   GREEN    HOLM. 

HURRYING  on  to  make  up,  so  far  as  was  possible,  for  lost  time, 
the  boys  reached  the  Royal  Oak  in  a  few  minutes  under  the 
hour  and  a  quarter.  Here  they  sat  down  for  a  few  minutes 
on  the  bench  in  front  of  the  inn  to  rest  their  feet,  which  ached 
somewhat  in  consequence  of  the  rapid  pace  at  which  they  had 
walked.  They  were  not  more  than  half-way  to  Wickfield,  but 
Cressingham's  fears  lest  his  companion  should  break  down  on 
the  way  were  now  quieted.  It  was  plain  he  had  been  right  in 
saying  his  ailment  was  not  bodily  illness,  but  worry  and  alarm. 
It  was  now  a  little  more  than  two  miles  to  Friarswood  Ferry, 
and  Cressingham  reckoned  that  if  they  kept  up  the  same  speed 
as  hitherto,  they  would  reach  it  by  half-past  eight  o'clock. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  again  started,  and  in  another  quarter 
of  an  hour  saw  before  them  the  estuary  of  the  Spene.  The 
clouds  had  been  gathering  for  some  time  past,  and  the  moon, 
hitherto  bright  and  clear,  was  now  occasionally  obscured.  By 
the  time  when  they  had  reached  the  shore  some  heavy  clouds 
were  passing,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  they  could  find 
the  ferryman's  house.  The  old  man  too  was  hard  to  rouse, 
and  when  they  had  succeeded  in  coming  to  a  parley  with  him, 

z 


354  Who  did  it? 

his  first  words  expressed  his  astonishment  at  the  request  made 
of  him. 

"  Cross  the  ferry,  young  gentlemen  ! "  he  said,  "  cross  it 
now  !  Why,  there's  a  sheet  of  ice  over  it  thick  enough  to  bear 
a  horse  pretty  nigh.  Folk  have  been  crossing  all  the  after- 
noon. It  may  break  up  before  morning,  but  the  boat  won't 
be  able  to  cross  to-morrow,  nor  the  day  after  neither." 

"  Do  you  say  that  people  have  been  crossing  this  evening  ?  " 
asked  Burton. 

"  I  don't  know  when  the  last  went  over,"  said  the  ferryman. 
"  Hoskins,  the  pedlar,  with  his  pack — he  was  the  last  I  saw. 
He  went  across  about  half-past  five  o'clock — three  hours  ago." 

"  If  he  could  get  across,  so  can  we,"  said  Burton.  "  Good 
evening,  ferryman.  Come  along,  Fred." 

"Wait  a  minute,  Clem,"  said  Cressingham.  "You  had 
better  not  attempt  this  without  knowing  a  little  more  about  it. 
Old  Ball  said  the  frost  might  be  breaking  up,  and  it  feels  to 
me  very  much  as  though  it  were  giving.  It's  a  long  way 
across,  and  I  know  there  are  places  where  the  ice  is  much 
thinner  than  in  others.  Hallo,  Ball ! "  he  shouted,  "  did  you 
say  the  frost  was  breaking  up  ?  " 

The  old  man  put  his  head  out  of  the  window  again.  "Seems 
like  it,"  he  said,  "  but  can't  be  sure." 

"  Is  it  safe  to  cross,  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  Depends  on  whether  you're  in  a  hurry,"  said  the  ferryman. 
"  If  you  aint,  you'd  best  come  back  and  see  how  'tis  in  the 
morning." 

14  Yes,  but  we  are — we  are,"  exclaimed  Burton,  impatiently. 

"Well  then,  you'd  best  cross  by  the  island.  It's  a  bit 
longer,  but  the  ice  is  stronger  there.  But  I  must  go  to  bed 


The  Green  Holm.  355 

again.  The  missus  don't  like  the  window  being  kep  open." 
So  saying,  Mr  Ball  shut  the  window  down,  and  again  buried 
himself  beneath  the  bed-clothes. 

"  Clem,  hadn't  we  better  stay  here  for  a  few  hours  at  all 
events?"  urged  Cressingham.  "  Ball  will  let  us  stay  at  his 
house,  I've  no  doubt.  It  will  make  no  difference  at  what 
hour  we  reach  Wickfield,  so  that  we're  in  time  for  you  to  get 
your  answer  from  your  friend  and  return  to  Walescliff  by  the 
morning  coach.  Another  hour  or  two—" 

"  No,  no,"  broke  in  Burton,  "  in  another  hour  or  two  it  may 
be  impossible  to  cross.  The  moon  is  out  now,  and  will  be  out 
for  the  next  quarter  of  an  hour  at  least,  and  that  will  give  us 
time  to  see  our  way  across.  But  don't  you  come,  Cressing- 
ham, if  you'd  rather  not — " 

"  If  you  go,  I  shall,"  interrupted  Cressingham ;  "  that's 
settled." 

Nothing  further  was  said.  Picking  up  a  short  thick  stick, 
several  of  which  were  lying  about,  Burton  moved  down  to  the 
point  indicated  by  the  ferryman,  and  stepped  upon  the  ice. 

The  island  has  already  been  described  in  an  earlier  chapter. 
It  lay  in  the  middle  of  the  estuary  of  the  Spene — a  long  narrow 
strip  of  land  covered  with  shrubs  in  the  centre,  and  fringed 
with  long  reeds  and  rushes,  whence  it  derived  its  name  of 
the  "  Green  Holm."  It  was  a  favourite  place  during  the 
summer  months  for  excursionists,  who  were  wont  to  row 
over  from  Wickfield  or  Loggington,  or  sometimes  from 
Walescliff  and  the  towns  further  out  in  that  direction,  and 
pic-nic  there.  There  was  a  rude  hut  immediately  adjoining  a 
spring  of  fresh  water  at  the  furthest  point  of  the  island.  Close 
to  this  also  was  the  landing  place.  The  cottage  itself  was  kept 


356  Who  did  it? 

in  repair  by  the  lord  of  the  manor,  Squire  Wolford  ;  and 
during  the  summer  season  so  many  parties  were  wont  to  visit 
the  spot,  that  Mrs  Ball  made  a  regular  practice  of  migrating 
to  it  early  in  June,  and  continuing  her  residence  till  late  in 
September,  picking  up  a  very  considerable  harvest  of  sixpences 
and  shillings  from  the  parties  whom  she  supplied  with  glass, 
crockery,  and  hot  water.  If  any  complaints  were  made  by 
visitors,  she  was  happily  fenced  from  hearing  them,  being 
almost  stone  deaf — unable,  at  all  events,  by  any  effort  to  catch 
the  purport  of  the  remarks  addressed  to  her.  On  these  occa- 
sions her  husband  was  usually  called  in  as  the  medium  of 
communication.  But  as  he  too,  if  not  absolutely  deaf,  was 
extremely  hard  of  hearing,  visitors  generally  found  it  wiser  to 
take  the  goods  with  which  the  gods  provided  them,  without 
any  attempt  at  remonstrance. 

Burton  stepped  out  stoutly,  making  for  the  point  recom- 
mended by  Ball.  The  ice  seemed  solid  and  firm  under  his 
feet,  and  he  moved  rapidly,  though  cautiously,  onward.  But  he 
had  miscalculated  the  time  during  which  the  moon  would 
remain  clear  of  cloud.  The  wind  had  freshened  somewhat, 
and  the  heavy  dark  masses  kept  sweeping  up  faster  than 
before.  The  two  boys  were  still  a  hundred  yards  from  the 
shore  of  the  island  when  the  light  failed  them.  In  another 
minute  it  was  impossible  to  see  any  object  within  the  distance 
of  a  few  yards.  They  moved  on  now  very  slowly,  hold- 
ing each  other's  hands,  and  feeling  their  way  with  their 
sticks. 

"  We  had  better  stop,  Fred,"  said  Burton,  presently.  "  I'm 
afraid  we  must  be  going  wrong.  We  were  not  above  a  hundred 
yards  from  the  island,  when  that  cloud  came  over  the  moon. 


"CRESSINGHAM  COULD  SEE  HIM  STRUGGLING 


356- 


Tlie  Green  Holm.  357 

I've  been  counting  the  steps  I  have  taken,  and  we  ought  to 
have  reached  it  before  this." 

"  It  will  be  no  use  standing  still,  Clem,"  answered  his  friend. 
"I  noticed  there  was  a  long  chain  of  black  clouds,  one  after 
another,  coming  up.  It  would  take  a  very  long  time  before 
they  all  go  by.  We  must  keep  moving.  Even  if  we  have 
missed  the  end  of  the  island,  we  must  be  going  right  for  the 
Wickfield  shore.  Hallo !  what's  that,  Clem  ?  what's  the 
matter?"  he  cried,  as  Burton  let  go  his  hand,  and  the  sound  of 
a  heavy  fall,  and  a  splash  followed,  "What  is  the  matter?"  he 
repeated  in  a  louder  tone.  There  was  no  answer ;  but  the 
moon  at  this  moment  broke  out  in  the  interval  between  two 
masses  of  black  cloud,  and  the  landscape  again  became  for  a 
few  minutes  clearly  visible.  Cressingham  saw  that  they  were 
close  to  the  shore.  A  punt  had  been  moored  to  the  bank,  the 
ice  round  it  was  broken  away,  and  the  punt  pole  was  driven 
deep  into  the  mud.  It  was  over  this  that  Burton  had  stumbled, 
and  Cressingham  could  see  him  struggling  in  the  water,  which 
was  several  feet  deep,  though  close  in  shore.  He  climbed 
into  the  punt,  and  leaning  over,  caught  Burton  by  the  collar. 
The  latter  had  still  strength  enough  to  assist  his  companion's 
efforts,  and  he  was  presently  landed,  weak  and  shivering,  but 
uninjured,  on  terra  firma. 

"  Come  along,  Clem,"  cried  Cressingham,  "  come  as  quick 
as  you  can  to  the  cottage.  We  shall  find  shelter  there  at  all 
events." 

Burton  obeyed  as  well  as  he  was  able.  Leaning  on  Cres- 
singham's  arm  he  staggered  along  the  path,  which  fortunately 
it  was  almost  impossible  to  miss,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they 
reached  the  hut. 


358  Wliodidit? 

"  Here  we  are  at  last,"  exclaimed  Cressingham,  in  a  tone 
expressive  of  great  relief.  "  Why,  what,"  he  added  a  moment 
afterwards,  as  they  came  in  front  of  the  cottage  window,  and 
saw  that  it  was  lighted  up,  and  that  several  figures  were  seated 
round  a  fire  burning  on  the  hearth.  "Why,  what  is 
this?  Here  are  a  lot  of  fellows,  and — and  whoever  is 
this—" 

He  broke  off  in  still  greater  surprise,  as  a  lad,  who  had  been 
sitting  on  a  stool  by  the  fire,  got  up  as  soon  as  the  two 
friends  entered  the  hut,  and  grasping  Burton  by  the  hand,  ex- 
claimed, "  Clem,  I  declare,  and  Fred  Cressingham,  too ! 
What  in  the  world  can  have  brought  you  here?" 

"  George  Alford  !"  cried  Cressingham,  in  equal  astonish 
ment.  "  I  thought  you  were  a  hundred  miles  away  at  the 
least  But  there  is  no  time  for  explanations  now.  Here's 
Clem,  he  has  fallen  over  head  and  ears  into  the  river,  and 
he'll  catch  a  frightful  cold  if  he  remains  in  his  wet  things. 
He  is  too  much  done  up  to  talk  to  you  now.  But  we'll 
soon  set  him  right  if  you  will  help  me." 

Alford  acquiesced.  Burton  was  stripped  of  his  clothes, 
wiped  dry  with  handkerchiefs,  and  then  seated  before  the  fire, 
wrapped  in  some  rough  overcoats.  Having  been  further 
recruited  with  a  cup  of  hot  spirits  and  water,  which  the  party 
had  been  imbibing,  Burton  presently  pronounced  himself  to  be 
all  right  again,  and  called  on  his  friend  to  give  some  account 
of  his  unexpected  appearance. 

"  Well,  Clem,"  said  Alford,  "  I  think  I  might  ask  for  an 
explanation  of  your  appearance  too.  Only,  I  suppose,  I  can 
guess  it.  You  were  on  your  way  to  Wickfield  to  inquire 
whether  I  had  arrived — " 


The  Green  Holm.  359 

"  You,  or  any  letter  from  you,  George.  You  know  I  could 
not  speak  without  your  permission." 

"  So  the  letter  which  I  found  on  my  arrival  at  Wickfield 
this  afternoon  said.  I  could  not  understand  exactly  to  what 
you  referred,  but  I  saw  you  were  very  anxious  to  see  me,  and 
as  it  was  too  late  to  write  by  the  mid-day  post,  I  asked  Tom 
and  Bill  Bowles  here  to  take  me  over  in  their  boat.  You 
know  the  Bowles's,  by  the  way,  Clem,  don't  you?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Burton,  laughing,  "  they  are  old  acquaint- 
ances of  mine,  and  of  Fred's  too.  You  remember  that  day 
when  we  took  you  off  the  Quoits,  I  daresay,  Mr  Bowles?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Tom  Bowles.  "  We've  good  reason 
to  remember  you  and  Mr  Cressingham  too.  We  were  a  bit 
rough  with  you  that  day,  I  am  afraid,  sir.  I  hope  you'll 
please  to  excuse  it.  You  see  we  might  have  been  caught  any 
moment  by  a  boat  from  the  frigate — " 

<:  Ay,  I  heard  something  of  the  story,"  said  Burton.  "  I 
suppose  it  was  that  scoundrel,  Carr,  set  the  pressgang  on 
you?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  only  there  was  a  bigger  scoundrel  even  than  he, 
egging  him  on,"  replied  Tom. 

"What,  Mr  Wilcoxon,  I  suppose?" 

"Ay,  to  be  sure,  who  else?"  replied  Bowles.  "But  Mr 
Knyvett,  he  has  contrived  to  hunt  up  Carr  at  last,  and  he  has 
given  information — " 

"  You'd  better  let  me  tell  my  story,  Tom,"  interposed 
Alford,  "and  then  it  will  all  come  clear.  Well,  as  I  was 
saying,  Clem,  our  friends  here  undertook  to  carry  me  over  by 
five  o'clock  to  Walescliff  harbour,  when  I  should  have  gone 
up  at  once  to  Holmwood.  But  when  we  got  opposite  the 


360  Who  did  it  ? 

island  here,  we  had  the  misfortune  to  run  upon  a  stake,  which 
had  been  driven  in  to  hold  a  net,  I  suppose." 

"  By  some  of  the  pleasuring  chaps,  I  expect,"  interposed 
Bill  Bowles,  "  to  fasten  one  of  their  boats  to,  and  they'd  never 
pulled  it  out  again." 

"  It  doesn't  much  matter.  So  much  damage  was  done  that 
it  would  take  an  hour  or  two  to  put  right,  and  then  the  clouds 
were  coming  up,  and  it  would  evidently  be  dark  all  night. 
So  we  agreed  we'd  stay  till  morning,  and  get  to  Walescliff 
before  breakfast  You  see  it  didn't  matter  so  much,  because 
there's  always  a  lot  of  wood  lying  about  here  to  make  a  fire 
with,  and  there's  a  spring  of  water,  and  I  had  my  brandy  flask." 

"  It  is  a  good  job  for  me  you  had,  George,"  said  Burton. 
"  But  you  asked  me  just  now,  or  rather  you  said,  you  could 
not  understand  from  my  letter  what  I  wanted.  Why,  of 
course,  it  was  your  permission  to  explain  to  Captain 
Gurdon— " 

"  Explain  to  Captain  Gurdon  ?"  interrupted  Alford.  "  Why 
I  wrote  a  full  explanation  to  the  Captain,  and  a  letter  to  you 
also,  telling  you  I  had  done  so." 

"  No  such  letters  have  ever  been  received,  George.  How 
did  you  send  them  ?" 

"  By  the  pilot — Andrew  Parsons  his  name  was,  if  I  re- 
member." 

"  Andy  Parsons,"  repeated  Bill  Bowles.  "  If  you  sent  them 
by  him,  it  aint  no  wonder  they  didn't  come  to  hand.  He's 
seldom  quite  sober  when  he  goes  aboard  a  ship,  and  never 
when  he  comes  back  from  one." 

"And  that  business  has  never  been  explained  then ?"  cried 
Alford. 


Tfie  Green  Holm.  361 

"  No,  George,  I  could  not  speak  without  your  leave.  I  had 
promised  I  would  not.  But  it  will  be  all  right  now.  You 
will  give  your  consent,  I  suppose,  and  I  shall  be  able  to  tell 
the  Doctor — " 

"  No,  Clem,  I'll  go  over  to-morrow  and  tell  it  all  myself. 
I  am  only  grieved  to  think  how  much  trouble  you  must  have 
had  on  my  account.  Doesn't  even  Cressingham  here  know 
the  rights  of  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not,  George.  Didn't  I  promise  you  I  would 
give  no  hint  that  I  knew  anything  of  your  doings,  since  the 
day  you  left  Wickfield  ?  I  have  never  been  released  from 
that  promise.  But  I  think  it  will  be  better  for  you  to  go  over 
to  the  Priory  to-morrow  as  you  propose,  and  give  an  explana- 
tion, which  everyone — Captain  Gurdon,  Thornton,  Hepburn, 
and  all  the  school— will  hear.  That  will  be  better  than  my  doing 
it,  and  Fred,  I  daresay,  won't  mind  waiting  till  then.  Still  I 
should  like  to  hear  at  once  what  has  been  happening  to  you 
since  we  parted  that  morning,  if  you  don't  mind  telling  it.  I 
suppose  you  don't  mind  either  Fred  here,  or  the  Bowles's 
knowing  it,  do  you?" 

"  Not  at  all.  Every  one  is  welcome  to  know  it,  so  far  as  I 
am  concerned,  and  Tom  and  Bill  here  do  know  it  pretty  well 
already.  But  do  I  understand  that  you  have  never  received 
any  letter  at  all  from  me  since  the  igth  of  August  last?" 

"  I  have  never  received  any  letter  at  all.  I  did  hear  from 
Frank  Knyvett  that  you  had  written  to  him,  but  the  letter 
contained  no  message  for  me." 

"  That  is  strange.  But  it  is  of  no  consequence  now.  Well, 
then,  I'll  begin  at  the  beginning.  You  know  I  had  taken  my 
passage  for  New  Orleans,  and  was  going  to  sail  from  Curlew 


362  Who  did  it  ? 

on  the  very  day  of  our  parting.  I  had  discovered,  through 
Frank  Knyvett,  you  know,  that  Wilcoxon  had  found  out 
something  about  my  plans.  He  knew  that  I  was  intending  to 
leave  England ;  and  probably  suspected  that  I  was  going  to 
New  Orleans,  to  find  out  anything  about  Major  Baynton  that 
could  be  learned.  It  did  not  at  all  suit  him  to  let  me  go  on 
such  an  errand,  and  he  had  devised  a  scheme  to  prevent 


"  How  do  you  suppose  he  found  out  anything  about  it  ?  " 
asked  Burton. 

"  Well,  you  know  I  had  to  raise  the  money  to  pay  my 
passage  to  New  York,  and  afterwards  to  New  Orleans,  and 
though  I  went  as  a  steerage  passenger  a  good  bit  of  money 
was  wanted.  I  had  been  saving  up  my  money  for  months 
past,  and  I  sold  a  watch  and  some  seals  which  my  father  had 
given  me,  and  the  Bowles's  lent  me  a  few  sovereigns  and  you 
some  more,  and  so  I  made  it  up.  But  I  have  an  idea  that 
the  jeweller  to  whom  I  sold  the  things  told  Wilcoxon  about  it. 
Anyhow  he  had  taken  his  measures  to  prevent  it.  Frank 
warned  me  that  he  was  going  to  send  me  the  very  next  day, 
he  believed,  to  a  fellow  living  in  the  north  of  Scotland,  in  the 
Hebrides,  I  think,  who  professed  to  take  pupils.  Frank  knew 
something  of  the  man  and  of  the  place.  He  said  I  should  be 
half-starved  and  moped  to  death.  I  was  to  be  kept  without 
money,  and  even  if  I  had  it,  it  would  be  very  difficult  for  me 
to  get  away  from  the  island.  I  was  to  be  kept  there  in  fact, 
till  I  knocked  under  about  the  clerkship. 

"  The  only  chance  was  for  me  to  be  off  at  once.  So  I  came 
over  to  you,  as  you  know,  and  then  went  on  to  Haverport  Roads, 
where  the  ship  was  lying.  I  reached  her  only  just  in  time.  She 


The  Green  Holm.  363 

was  actually  weighing  anchor  when  I  went  on  board.  We  had 
a  good  passage  down  channel,  and  as  far  as  the  Irish  Coast ; 
but  a  day  or  two  afterwards  there  were  contrary  winds,  and  we 
didn't  reach  New  York  till  the  end  of  the  first  week  in  October. 
Half-way  between  Newfoundland  and  the  American  Coast 
there  was  an  opportunity  of  sending  letters  to  England,  and  I 
wrote  both  to  you  and  to  Frank  Knyvett.  I  wrote  to  him  a 
second  letter  soon  after  we  landed.'' 

"  He  had  your  second  letter,  George.  Neither  of  the  others 
came  to  hand." 

"  Ah,  then,  it  must  have  been  as  I  feared.  I  remember 
there  were  heavy  gales  soon  afterwards.  I  suppose  the  New 
England  Star  must  have  been  lost.  Well,  to  go  on.  My 
first  step  after  reaching  New  York  was  to  secure  a  passage  for 
New  Orleans.  I  went  down  to  the  packet  office  for  the  pur- 
pose. There  was  a  great  crowd  of  people  about,  and  it  was  a 
long  time  before  I  could  get  attended  to.  While  I  was  stand- 
ing about  waiting  for  my  turn  to  come,  I  felt,  all  of  a  moment, 
a  slap  on  the  back,  and  heard  a  fellow  saying,  '  Why,  it  is 
George  Alford,  I  declare,  or  else  his  twin  brother !  What 
can  have  brought  you  to  this  part  of  the  world,  my  lad  ? ' 

"  I  turned  round,  and  there,  looking  me  full  in  the  face,  was 
the  very  man  I  had  come  out  to  look  after,  the  man  whom  I 
had  almost  made  up  my  mind  to  believe  dead,  my  guardian, 
Major  Baynton  himself " 

"  By  Jove,  you  don't  mean  that ! "  exclaimed  Burton.  "  That 
was  a  go !  I  wish  you  joy  with  all  my  heart !  Where  had  he 
been  all  those  months  ?  " 

George  proceeded  to  inform  him  in  a  narrative,  which  we 
will  abridge  for  the  reader's  benefit. 


364  WJw  did  it  ? 

Major  Baynton,  or  Colonel  as  he  should  more  properly  be 
called,  having  attained  that  rank  soon  after  landing  in  America, 
had  led  one  of  the  attacks  on  the  cotton  ramparts  of  New 
Orleans  on  the  disastrous  5th  of  January  1815.  He  had  been 
cut  down  in  a  sortie  by  the  enemy,  and  left  for  dead  on  the 
field.  The  ruffians  who  never  fail  to  plunder  the  dying  and 
the  dead  after  every  battle,  had  stripped  him  of  his  uniform 
and  sword,  leaving  nothing  on  his  person  by  which  his  name 
or  rank  could  be  determined.  The  sabre  cut  which  had  pro- 
strated him  had  inflicted  some  injury  on  the  brain,  causing 
stupor  lasting  for  some  eighteen  months,  during  all  which  time 
the  patient  had  never  regained  consciousness.  When  at  last 
reason  and  memory  slowly  returned  to  him,  he  found  that 
peace  with  England  had  long  been  concluded,  and  he  was  free 
to  return  thither  whensoever  he  pleased.  He  learned  also 
the  stirring  incidents  of  the  "  hundred  days,"  the  glories  of 
Waterloo,  and  the  terrible  loss  of  life  by  which  they  had  been 
purchased.  In  the  Gazette  of  that  sanguinary  day  he  read 
with  deep  regret  the  name  of  his  friend  George  Alford. 

"  Poor  Alford,"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  sigh,  "  his  death  will 
be  a  heavy  blow  to  his  son — that  nice  lad  !  I  wonder  what  has 
become  of  him  by  this  time.  His  father  has  been  dead  more 
than  a  year.  And,  by  the  way,  he  made  me  the  boy's  guardian, 
or  one  of  his  guardians.  Well,  I  shall  be  returning  to  Eng- 
land as  soon  as  I  can  arrange  my  affairs,  and  then  I  can  make 
inquiries  about  him." 

It  was  early  in  September  when  the  Colonel  made  this 
discovery,  and  about  three  weeks  afterwards  he  took  his 
passage  for  England  by  way  of  New  York,  encountering 
George  Alford,  as  the  reader  has  heard,  in  one  of  the  quays 
belonging  to  that  city. 


The  Green  Holm.  365 

"  Well,"  said  George,  "  the  moment  I  met  him  all  was  right 
again.  He  told  me  I  was  quite  right  as  to  my  father's  inten- 
tions respecting  me.  He  had  not  only  always  meant  that  I 
should  go  into  the  army  as  soon  as  I  entered  on  my  seventeenth 
year,  but  had  left  full  instructions  to  his  executors  to  carry  out 
his  intentions  in  events  of  his  dying  before  their  fulfilment.  A 
copy  of  these,  in  Colonel  Alford's  own  handwriting,  had  been 
sent  to  Major  Baynton  at  the  time  when  the  Colonel  left  Eng- 
land for  the  Peninsula.  The  original  had  remained  with  the  will, 
which  had  been  left  with  Mrs  Alford.  Doubtless  it  had 
fallen  into  Mr  Wilcoxon's  hands,  and  by  him,  it  would  appear, 
had  been  suppressed. 

"  '  But  it  will  be  all  right  now,  my  lad,'  Colonel  Baynton 
said  to  me,  when  I  had  told  him  all  that  had  taken  place 
since  my  father's  death.  '  We  are  not  going  to  leave  New 
York  for  a  fortnight  yet,  and  I'll  write  to  Mr  Wilcoxon  by  the 
packet,  which  sails  to-day,  such  a  letter  as  will  put  a  stop  to 
his  designs  on  you  and  on  your  money  too.' 

"  Well,  Clem,  we  stayed  our  fortnight  in  New  York,  and  I 
never  enjoyed  anything  more  in  all  my  life.  Colonel  Baynton 
is  the  jolliest  fellow,  I  think,  in  the  whole  world.  He  took 
me  everywhere  about  with  him,  and  set  me  up  in  clothes  and 
pocket  money,  and  paid  my  passage  home. 

"  We  parted  at  Plymouth.  He  had  to  go  up  to  London  for 
a  few  days,  and  I  came  on  to  Wickfield,  which,  as  I  told 
you,  I  reached  to-day.  What  do  you  think  was  the  first  thing 
I  heard  from  Frank  Kny vett,  on  my  arriving  there  ?  " 

"  I  can't  say,  I  am  sure,  George,"  returned  Burton.  "  I 
suppose  old  Wilcoxon  hadn't  hanged  himself,  had  he  ?  " 

"  Well,  no,  he  hadn't  exactly  done  that.     But  he  had  done 


366  Who  did  it  ? 

the  next  thing  to  it.  He  had  sold  his  nail  factory,  his  house 
and  furniture,  and  left  Wickfield — left  England,  it  was  be- 
lieved, carrying  my  stepmother  away  with  him." 

"  A  good  riddance,  George,"  said  Cressingham,  "  if  all  I 
have  heard  is  true.  But  what  made  him  do  that  ?  I  thought 
his  business  at  Wickfield  was  supposed  to  be  a  thriving  one ; 
and  though  he  was  disappointed  in  his  attempts  to  get  hold  of 
your  money,  or  make  you  his  clerk,  I  don't  see  what  Colonel 
Baynton  could  have  done  to  him." 

"  I  am  not  clear  on  that  point,"  said  Alford.  "  Frank 
Kynvett  told  me  that  his  father  had  said  it  would  be  an 
awkward  thing  for  Mr  Wilcoxon,  if  it  could  be  proved  that 
the  paper  of  instructions  to  Colonel  Alford's  executors  had 
been  left  with  Mrs  Alford,  and  by  her  handed  to  her  present 
husband.  His  attempts  to  appropriate  the  Colonel's  money  to 
benefit  his  own  business,  in  the  teeth  of  his  own  written 
directions,  would  be  an  ugly  fact  if  it  was  brought  into  any 
court.  But  I  don't  suppose  that  was  his  main  reason  for  sell- 
ing his  property  and  leaving  Wickfield.  Tom  Bowles  here 
could  give  you  a  better  reason.  Couldn't  you,  Tom  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  I  could  give  you  a  pretty  good  one.  Lawyer 
Knyvett — he  aint  a  bad  man  of  business,  Mr  Burton — he  has 
routed  out  this  man  Carr,  who  was  the  chap  that  set  the  press- 
gang  upon  us.  Mr  Knyvett  knew  something  of  this  Carr — 
was  consarned,  I  fancy,  in  some  trial  for  assault  and  robbery 
with  which  a  man  named  Clark  charged  him.  When  he 
was  took  up  by  the  constables  for  the  false  evidence  he 
gave  the  officer  of  the  press-gang,  Mr  Knyvett  threatened 
him,  if  he  didn't  tell  the  whole  truth  of  his  dealings  with  Wil- 
coxon, that  he'd  bring  up  the  old  charge  against  him.  Carr  he 


The  Green  Holm.  367 

got  frightened,  and  he  told  the  whole.  He  said  Wilcoxon  had 
been  down  to  him  and  put  him  up  to  lending  us  the  thousand 
pounds,  and  then  coming  upon  us  for  it  again  as  soon  as  he 
thought  we'd  spent  it ;  and  when  that  didn't  do,  he  promised 
Can  fifty  if  he'd  get  us  carried  aboard  one  of  the  ships  that 
was  just  agoing  to  sail  against  Algiers.  He  sent  Carr  some 
paper,  which  pretended  to  be  a  conviction  of  Bill  and  myself 
for  some  felony,  which  took  the  liftenant  in '"' 

"  The  lieutenant  of  the  Enterprise  you  mean  ? "  said 
Cressingham. 

"  Yes,  of  the  Enterprise,  sir,  and  the  liftenant,  thinking  the 
paper  was  all  right,  wouldn't  listen  to  us,  and  when  we  cut  up 
rough,  he  put  us  into  irons.  It  was  a  near  go,  sir.  If  it 
hadn't  happened  that  Bill  there  had  been  buying  a  couple  of 
files  that  very  morning  to  sharpen  his  saw,  we  should  have  been 
taken  to  Algiers,  and  as  likely  as  not  knocked  on  the  head. 
But  they  didn't  suspect  we'd  got  the  files,  and  we  worked  with 
them  all  the  night,  and  before  the  day  began  to  break,  we 
made  our  escape." 

"  And  Mr  Knyvett  threatened  Mr  Wilcoxon  to  bring  up 
this  man  Carr's  evidence  against  him,  hey?"  asked  Cressing- 
ham. 

"  Well,  sir,  he  took  care  Mr  Wilcoxon  should  know  he'd 
found  it  all  out.  I  don't  exactly  know  what  means  he  took  to 
let  him  know  it,  but  he  did,  and  Wilcoxon  judged  it  better  to 
clear  off  while  he  could.  Any  way  he  is  gone,  and  the  nail 
factory's  shut  up,  and  I  hope  it  won't  be  opened  again." 

"  I  hope  it  won't  Tom,"  assented  Alford,  "or  if  it  is,  that  it 
will  be  opened  by  a  different  sort  of  fellow  from  Wilcoxon. 
Well  now,  Clem,  it  is  getting  pretty  late.  You  had  better  put 


368  Who  did  it  ? 

on  your  clothes  again,  which  are  now  quite  dry,  and  we'll  lie 
down  to  sleep  before  the  fire.  What  time  had  we  better  start 
in  the  morning,  Tom  ?  You  must  settle  that." 

"  Well,  Mr  George,  there  aint  no  good  in  setting  off  too 
early.  We'll  set  about  mending  the  boat,  as  soon  as  it's  light, 
and  if  we  start  by  ten  o'clock,  it  will  be  time  enough." 

"Ten  o'clock;  very  good.  We  shall  be  at  Walescliff  a 
little  after  eleven.  Mr  Knyvett  and  Frank  are  to  meet  us  at 
the  King's  Arms  at  half-past  eleven.  And  then  we'd  all  go 
together  to  the  Priory." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE   ANSWER  AT   LAST. 

DR  THORNTON  did  not  return  to  the  Priory  until  just  before 
morning  school,  and  he  had,  in  consequence,  no  time  to 
receive  the  matron's  report  after  breakfast,  as  was  his  wont 
This  was  some  relief  to  that  lady,  who  was  a  good  deal  troubled 
to  know  what  had  become  of  Burton  and  Cressingham. 
Burton  had  requested  that  he  might  not  be  disturbed  in  the 
morning.  His  room,  accordingly,  had  not  been  visited  until 
eight  o'clock,  when  it  was  found  that  he  had  quitted  it.  As 
his  bed  had  not  been  made  on  the  previous  day,  no  suspicions 
were  entertained  that  he  had  not  slept  in  it.  Presently  the 
maid  who  had  charge  of  Cressingham's  room  came  to  report 
that  his  bed  had  not  been  occupied.  Supposing,  however, 
that  the  boy  had  chosen  to  pass  the  night  in  his  friend's  room, 
even  this  did  not  rouse  suspicion.  But  when  neither  of  the 
boys  appeared  at  breakfast,  and  inquiries  after  them  failed  to 
elicit  any  satisfactory  answer,  the  matron  became  uneasy.  If 
the  missing  boys  had  borne  a  bad  character  for  irregularity  and 
disobedience,  it  would  at  once  have  been  surmised  that  they 
were  playing  truant — a  trick,  it  may  be  remarked  in  passing, 
much  more  common  in  those  days  than  the  present.  But  Burton 


370  Who  did  it? 

and  Cressingham  were  two  of  the  steadiest  boys  in  the  school. 
They  had  been  many  years  at  Holmwood,  and  had  never  on 
any  occasion  broken  the  rules  to  any  serious  extent ;  and  it 
was  impossible  to  suppose  that  they  had  run  away.  Mrs 
Edwards  was  inclined  to  believe  that  they  must  have  gone  to 
the  Doctor  for  some  purpose,  and  contented  herself  with  making 
a  few  inquiries  from  any  persons  whom  she  met,  as  to  whether 
they  had  seen  them.  About  eleven  o'clock  Mr  Eaton,  the 
butcher,  who  had  just  arrived  from  Walescliff,  was  able  to 
answer  her  questions. 

"  Mr  Burton  and  Mr  Cressingham  ?  "  he  said.  "  Yes,  I  see 
'em  last  night — see  'em  in  Walescliff,  in  the  bar  of  the 
'  Anchor  Inn,'  ma'am." 

"  Last  night,  in  the  bar  of  the  Anchor  Inn,  Mr  Eaton !  " 
repeated  the  horrified  matron.  "  Why,  you're  joking,  to  be 
sure." 

"No,  I  aint,"  repeated  the  butcher.  "Never  was  more 
serious." 

"  Well  then,  you  must  be  mistaken,"  rejoined  the  lady. 

"I  aint  that  either,"  said  the  other.  "I  know  Mr  Burton 
and  Mr  Cressingham  by  sight  as  well  as  I  know  you,  Mrs 
Edwards.  I  had  gone  down  to  speak  to  the  landlord  about 
that  horse  of  mine  he  thinks  of  buying  ;  and  I  was  standing  in 
the  bar,  when  the  two  young  gentlemen  came  in.  They  had 
got  a  letter  with  them,  and  wanted  Jack  Landy  to  ride  with  it 
somewhere — to  Wickfield,  I  fancy.  But  he  couldn't  take  it. 
He'd  gone  to  drive  a  gentleman  to  Wandesborough  Castle.  I 
heard  it  all  as  plain  as  I  heard  you  speaking  just  now,  Mrs 
Edwards." 

"Well,  what  happened  then,   Mr   Eaton?"    asked   Mrs 


TJie  Answer  at  Last.  371 

Edwards.  "What  did  they  do  when  they  found  Landy 
couldn't  take  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  can't  be  sure,"  answered  the  butcher.  "  One  of 
them  said  something  about  the  letter  going  somehow  or  other, 
and  they  went  off  by  the  footpath  towards  Speneleigh  Wood. 
I  suppose  they  meant  to  ask  Mr  Grimes  to  take  it.  I  had  half 
a  mind  to  offer  to  send  it  myself,  they  seemed  so  anxious 
about  it  But  my  horse  had  been  out  all  the  afternoon  and 
was  tired,  so  I  didn't  speak  to  them." 

"The  Doctor  must  hear  this,"  exclaimed  the  matron. 
"  They  must  have  run  away  after  all !  Whoever  would  have 
thought  that  of  two  such  quiet  gentlemen  !  I  think  we're  all 
bewitched,  I  do !  Where  is  the  Doctor,  Tom  ? "  she  con- 
tinued, turning  to  the  school  servant  ? 

"  The  Doctor  is  in  school,"  replied  Cobbe,  "  but  it  will  be 
over  in  forty  minutes.  If  I  might  presume  to  advise,  it  would 
be  better  to  wait  till  then." 

"  Very  well,  Tom.  Meanwhile  there  will  be  just  time  for 
you  to  run  down  to  Grimes's  cottage,  and  enquire  if  he  knows 
anything  about  this." 

Meanwhile  school  had  been  proceeding  as  usual,  notwith- 
standing that  the  four  head  boys  of  the  first  class  were  absent. 
At  about  a  quarter  to  twelve  o'clock,  however,  a  message  was 
brought  in  by  one  of  the  maids — Cobbe,  it  appeared,  being 
absent — to  say  that  Mr  Lumley  had  driven  over,  and  was  now 
in  the  Doctor's  study  anxious  to  see  him  as  soon  as  it  would 
be  convenient.  The  Doctor  hurried  out,  and  found  his  visitor 
in  a  state  of  considerable  anxiety  and  bewilderment. 

"  I  have  this  morning  received  a  letter  from  my  ward, 
Stephen  Graves,"  he  said,  "  which  I  cannot  understand,  and 


372  Who  did  it? 

which  induced  me  to  drive  over  immediately  to  talk  to  you 
about  it." 

"  Sit  down,  Mr  Lumley,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  I  did  not 
expect  this,  but  am  not  greatly  surprised.  What  does  Stephen 
say  ?  " 

"  He  speaks  of  some  unfounded  charge  having  been  sud- 
denly revived  against  him,  and  of  his  having  been  suspected 
of  some  offence — he  does  not  say  what — without  sufficient 
evidence — indeed,  notwithstanding  that  there  was  clear  evi- 
dence of  another  person's  guilt.  He  wants  me  to  send  and 
fetch  him  away  immediately.  Of  course,  I  am  not  going  to 
do  that.  Whatever  charge  may  have  been  made  against  him 
ought  to  be  thoroughly  gone  into,  and  its  truth  or  falsehood 
made  clear,  before  I  could  take  any  step  of  that  kind." 

"You  are  quite  right,  Mr  Lumley.  The  whole  matter 
referred  to — a  most  intricate  and  perplexing  one — ought  to 
be  fully  elucidated  before  it  is  allowed  to  drop.  I  need  not 
tell  you,  I  trust,  that  I  am  anxious  to  do  the  fullest  justice  to 
your  ward." 

Mr  Lumley  bowed.  "  Certainly,"  he  said,  "  I  do  not  require 
to  be  told  that.  Let  me  add  that  I  think  you  have  done  him 
justice  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word.  Indeed,  for  the  last 
two  or  three  months  your  reports  of  him  have  been  highly 
satisfactory.  That  fact  was  one  of  those  which  caused  me  so 
much  perplexity." 

"  He  has  indeed  being  doing  unusually  well,"  said  the  head- 
master ;  "  admirably,  I  may  say.  I  had  felt  convinced  that 
this  charge,  which  had  almost  been  forgotten,  had  no  founda- 
tion so  far  as  he  was  concerned.  But  it  was  revived  yesterday 
by  Captain  Gurdon,  the  owner  of  a  valuable  dog  which  has 


The  Answer  at  Last.  373 

been  shot,  and  Stephen-  unfortunately  refuses  to  give  any 
explanation  of  certain  circumstances,  which — though  they 
would  not  absolutely  prove  the  case  against  him,  even  if  their 
truth  could  be  fully  established — are  nevertheless  full  of  very 
grave  suspicion.  I  hope  your  presence  may  induce  him  to 
speak  out." 

"  It  is  the  fault  of  his  character,"  said  Mr  Lumley.  "  He  is, 
I  believe,  incapable  of  meanness  or  falsehood,  but  there  is  a 
sullen  haughtiness  about  him  which  will  not  stoop  to  explana- 
tion. I  will  do  my  best,  though  I'll  by  no  means  answer,  after 
the  experience  I  have  had  of  him,  that  I  shall  succeed.  It 
will  be,  however,  necessary,  in  the  first  place,  that  I  should 
understand  the  matter  in  question,  of  which,  as  yet,  I  have  no 
knowledge." 

Doctor  Thornton  accordingly  entered  into  a  full  explanation 
of  the  affair  of  the  igth  of  August,  to  which  Mr  Lumley 
listened,  asking  various  questions  as  the  narrative  proceeded. 
It  had  hardly  come  to  a  conclusion  when  Cobbe,  who  had 
now  returned,  announced  Colonel  Wilder,  Captain  Gurdon, 
and  Baines.  It  being  now  past  twelve  o'clock,  the  whole  party 
adjourned  to  the  school-room  to  re-commence  the  enquiry. 

The  boys  were  all  drawn  up  in  school  order,  with  the  ushers 
at  their  desks,  intense  interest  expressed  on  each  face.  "  Let 
Temple  and  Graves  be  brought  down,"  said  the  Doctor.  "Mr 
Wilkes,  will  you  be  so  good  as  to  fetch  them  ?  " 

"  You  ought  to  be  informed,  sir,"  said  Mr  Hepburn,  as  the 
usher  left  the  room,  that  two  of  the  head  boys  of  the  school — 
Burton  and  Cressingham — are  not  to  be  found." 

"Not  to  be  found,  Mr  Hepburn?"  exclaimed  the  head- 
master in  surprise ;  "  what  do  you  mean  ?  I  thought  Burton 


374  Who  did  it  ? 

was   ill,   and   Cressingham    had   been    allowed    to   sit   with 
him." 

"  That  was  the  case  yesterday,  sir ;  but  it  appears  that  they 
went  out  about  six  o'clock  last  night,  and  have  never  returned." 
"You   must  be   dreaming,   Mr  Hepburn,"   exclaimed  Dr 
Thornton. 

"  I  thought  so  myself,  sir,  when  I  first  heard  it.  But  it 
certainly  is  so.  Eaton,  the  butcher,  saw  them  in  Walescliff 
somewhere  about  six  o'clock,  and  Captain  Grimes  met  them 
near  the  entrance  of  Speneleigh  wood  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
later.  It  appears  they  were  going  to  Wickfield.  They  wanted 
to  borrow  Grimes's  pony  to  ride  there,  but  he  refused  to  lend 
it  to  them." 

There  was  a  silence  of  a  minute  or  two,  while  the  boys  stared 
at  one  another  in  blank  amazement.  At  last  the  headmaster 
again  spoke. 

"  I  cannot  conceive  what  this  can  mean,  and  the  moment 
this  present  affair  is  settled,  I  shall  go  over  to  Wickfield  and 
make  inquiries.  Meanwhile  we  had  better  proceed  at  once. 
Baines,  have  you  any  further  evidence  to  produce  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  answered  the  constable,  "  I  don't  see  what  further 
evidence  could  be  produced,  unless  some  one  had  actually 
seen  the  dog  shot,  which  aint  very  likely,  or  he'd  have  come 
forward  long  ago." 

"  Very  well  then,  your  presence  will  not  be  needed  here. 
Will  you  be  so  good  as  to  go  down  into  Walescliff  and  learn 
anything  you  can  about  these  two  boys  ?  Captain  Gurdon," 
he  resumed,  as  the  door  closed  upon  Baines,  "  have  you  learnt 
anything  further  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"   returned  the  Captain.      "  I  am  of  the  same 


The  Answer  at  Last.  375 

opinion  as  Baines.  I  do  not  think  any  further  evidence  will 
ever  be  discovered.  One  of  these  two  did  it,  and  I,  for  my 
part,  have  no  doubt  which  it  was." 

"  You  mean  that  my  ward  did  it,  Captain  Gurdon,"  said  Mr 
Lumley.  "  I  cannot  agree  with  you.  Having  heard  the  whole 
case,  I  cannot  but  assent  so  far  to  your  opinion  as  to  think 
that  one  of  the  two  is  guilty,  but  I  do  not  think  that  one  is 
Stephen  Graves." 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Colonel  Wilder,  "  I  also  think  that  one 
or  the  other  of  these  two  lads  must  surely  be  the  culprit  But 
the  evidence  is  so  exactly  balanced,  that  I  am  wholly  unable 
to  say  which  of  the  two  did  it." 

"  It  remains  only,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  that  I  make  one  last 
appeal  to  the  boys  themselves.  Temple  and  Graves,  whatever 
doubts  there  may  be  in  any  of  our  minds,  there  can  be  none 
in  yours  as  to  your  guilt  or  innocence.  I  implore  you  to  speak 
out  and  tell  the  whole  truth.  Whichever  of  you  may  be  guilty, 
the  only  hope  he  can  have  of  atoning  for  his  fault,  the  only 
mode  by  which  he  can  avoid  doing  deeper  wrong  to  his  school- 
fellow than  he  has  already  done,  is  by  a  full,  though  it  must 
be  added  tardy,  confession.  Nor  can  he  possibly  benefit  him- 
self, even  so  far  as  this  Hawley  prize  is  concerned.  The  grave 
cloud  of  suspicion  which  rests  upon  both  renders  it  impossible 
that  I  could  award  it  to  either  of  them.  Under  any  circum- 
stances, indeed,  I  doubt  whether  I  could  do  so  after  what  has 
recently  come  to  light.  But  it  would  be  wholly  impossible 
while  the  offender  in  this  matter  remains  undetected." 

"  Speak  out,  Stephen,"  said  Mr  Lumley.  "  If,  as  I  believe, 
you  are  entirely  innocent  in  this  matter,  it  will  be  the  right,  as 
well  as  wise,  course  for  you  to  do  so.  If  injustice  has  been 


3/6  Who  did  it? 

done  you,  nothing  will  be  so  likely  to  set  it  right  as  perfect 
openness." 

"  Speak  out,  Charley,"  said  Captain  Gurdon,  stepping  up  to 
Temple  and  laying  his  hand  on  the  lad's  shoulder.  "  I  know 
you  didn't  do  it.  The  only  thing  that  can  make  that  seem 
doubtful,  would  be  your  refusal  to  speak." 

"  I  am  willing  to  speak  now,"  said  Temple.  "  I  did  not 
like  to  do  so  before,  because  I  should  have  got  Harry  Wilder 
into  trouble.  I  did  go  out  on  the  morning  of  the  igth  to 
fetch  the  pistol-case,  which  I  had  left  overnight  under  the 
arch  of  the  old  drain.  But  I  did  not  shoot  Neptune,  and  I 
do  not  know  who  did." 

"  And  the  compunction  which  I  heard  you  express  to  Harry 
Wilder  about  the  dog's  death,"  said  Mr  Hepburn.  "  How  do 
you  explain  that  ?  " 

u  It  was  my  carelessness  in  leaving  the  pistol  about,  which 
caused  the  poor  old  fellow  to  be  shot,"  said  Temple.  "  I  shall 
always  be  sorry  for  that" 

"  And  you,  Stephen  ?  "  said  Mr  Lumley.  "  Will  not  you 
be  equally  explicit  ?  Did  you  go  out  that  morning,  and  how 
is  the  tear  in  your  trousers  to  be  accounted  for  ?  " 

"  I  did  go  out — to  fetch  the  pistols  in.  I  tore  the  piece 
out  of  my  trousers  against  a  nafl  in  getting  out  of  the  window. 
I  did  not  kill  the  dog.  I  saw  nothing  of  him  as  I  went  back 
to  the  house." 

There  was  again  an  embarrassed  silence.  The  Doctor  seemed 
about  to  speak,  when  suddenly  the  door  was  opened,  and 
Burton  and  Cressingham,  accompanied  by  a  lad  of  their  own 
age,  and  a  tall  gentleman,  whom  all  present  recognized  as  Mr 
Knyvett,  entered  the  room. 


TTu  Answer  at  Last.  377 


I  declare!'  said  Coloael  wadet     "laatw- 
to  see  TOV  bexe.    We  vast  jov  help  pattics- 

_!"_       .-.    :  "_1:     :~1~-_T    1."  "  „    ' 

*  I  meant  to  have  been  half  an  boor  and  me 
Mi  F»j  nil,  "In*  T  ••• 

filStDD  2&d  T_iiySBBBfTBBBBi1 

•But*    Where  hftWcyDw  IfffpBj^  md  who  B  jnv  coMpBfflwo^— 
wiiai?  Geo^e—  GoHgeAIfard!    Wfcj,  I  bend  tibat  jtm  w-c 


b  That  I  had  left  Eo^aad,  Dr  Thontoa.    So  I  lad.    I 

;  : "  ;  : :    :  -   .  : .  -    : ;    -\~ .  —  ~.   ~   -~~  .     '-.    ~   -~.   ::. : ;     -.--- 

-~_~   ~  _-   _'    i__  _  _r       r  _:  r^::    :  "  ;  _  .  .-^r.  .  u.' 

"1     :1       "I      .-'——      ~  -~ '  1  I  T_ 


He  stepped  op  to  tbe  Captain,  wbo  wa 

7  _~   .'.:-  1    '-.-    '.'.-     .".',': 

"I  hare  to  btgjUBi  patdan,  sic,  fiv 

r,  as  wefl  as  caosed  JOB,  I  fear,  a  great  deal  of 

'---,- 


V..-;  .--;.  -LI 

k  SCHOOl  OBVS  ~^<j 

*  How  cooia  jco  hzw  ciQBC  ^  2wi  what  on  JOB 
do  k  for?* 

.      _••  _:._;i::  .;^   -^'.jiz.      r*~ 


I.  .     -:  - 
_f    -  -        -    -  -     --    >- 

fto  deooFCB    A  oo 


378  Who  did  it? 

if  he  had  been  seven  and  thirty  instead  of  seventeen.  But 
situated  as  he  was,  it  would  be  hard  indeed  to  blame  him,  I 
myself  at  the  same  age  should,  in  all  likelihood,  have  done 
the  same." 

George  Alford  bowed  and  went  on.  "  I  wanted  to  see 
Burton,  and  two  boatmen  from  Wickfield  brought  me  over 
to  Hanger's  Cave,  where  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  meet 
Burton  alone.  I  was  short  of  money,  and  had  come  to  ask 
if  he  could  help  me.  He  told  me  he  could  lend  me  three 
or  four  pounds ;  but  there  would  not  be  time  for  him  to  go 
up  to  the  Priory  to  fetch  them  before  the  house  was  locked  up. 
I  could  not  go  up  there  myself,  because  everybody  would 
know  me ;  and  I  could  not  wait  till  next  day,  because  my 
ship  was  to  sail  from  Haverport  Roads  early  on  the  following 
morning.  Finding  it  could  be  managed  in  no  other  way, 
Clement  told  me  that  he  had  accidentally  found  out,  some 
time  before,  that  there  was  a  mode  of  getting  out  of  the  Priory 
by  a  passage  which  ran  through  the  wall  of  one  of  the  out- 
houses in  the  back-yard —  " 

"  You  knew  of  this  passage,  Burton  ?  "  said  the  Doctor  in 
a  tone  of  displeased  surprise.  "  I  really  did  not  expect 
this." 

"  I  can  explain  that,  sir,"  said  Temple.  "  Burton  saw  me 
coming  in  that  way  early  one  morning  a  long  time  ago.  I 
saw  him  looking  out  of  the  window  of  his  bedroom  as  I  came 
up.  His  room  is  the  only  one  in  the  house  which  looks  that 
way.  I  saw  plainly  that  he  had  discovered  the  manner  by 
which  I  had  got  in,  and  I  expected  him  to  say  something 
to  me  about  it.  But  he  never  did,  and  I  am  quite  sure  he  has 
never  made  any  use  of  it." 


The  Answer  at  Last.  379 

"  And  how  did  you  come  to  know  of  it  yourself,  Temple  ?  " 

"  It  was  told  me  by  one  of  the  boys  several  years  ago,  just 
before  he  left,"  said  Temple.  "  He  made  me  promise  I  would 
never  say  anything  about  it  to  any  one,  till  I  was  just  on  the 
point  of  leaving." 

"  I  shall  see  this  back  way  walled  up  without  loss  of  time. 
Meanwhile  go  on,  George," 

"Well,  sir,  Burton  said  he  did  not  like  going  out  that 
way,  he  had  never  done  so,  and  he  meant  never  to  do  so. 
But  rather  than  I  should  be  prevented  leaving  England,  he 
would  get  out  that  way,  and  meet  me  early  next  morning.  I 
daresay  it  was  wrong,  sir ;  but  if  so,  the  blame  ought  to  rest 
almost  entirely  on  me.  I  had  told  Clement  what  a  strait 
I  was  in,  and  we  have  always  been  like  brothers,  you  know." 

"  He  risked  his  life  for  me  once,"  said  Burton,  speaking  as 
it  seemed  more  to  himself,  than  to  any  one  else.  "  I  couldn't 
refuse  to  help  him." 

There  was  something  like  a  cheer  among  the  boys,  old 
Captain  Gurdon's  voice  being  one  of  those  who  applauded. 
The  headmaster  checked  it,  though  with  a  smile,  and  simply 
said,  "  Go  on  George." 

"  Well,"  resumed  Alford.  "  We  remained  concealed — the 
two  Bowles  and  myself — in  Hanger's  Cave  all  night.  It  was 
a  terrible  time,  as  I  daresay  you  will  remember  —such  a  storm 
as  hasn't  been  known  they  say  for  years  past ;  but  about  three 
o'clock  it  lulled,  and  I  went  straight  up  to  the  Priory.  I 
found  I  was  a  little  too  soon,  and  kept  close  to  the  wall  at  the 
back  of  the  house,  out  of  sight  of  the  windows.  That  was  the 
place  you  had  appointed  for  our  meeting,  Clem." 

Burton  nodded,  and  the  speaker  went  on. 


380  Who  did  it? 

"  While  I  was  kicking  my  heels  about,  I  saw  lying  on  the 
ground,  under  a  small  archway,  a  shallow  mahogany  box,  and 
I  took  it  up  to  examine  it.  I  found  it  was  a  case  containing 
a  brace  of  very  handsome,  though  old-fashioned  pistols. 
Thinking  some  one  must  have  lost  them,  I  took  out  one  to 
see  if  there  was  any  name  or  address  upon  it.  All  of  a  mo- 
ment I  heard  a  sudden  rush  behind  me  and  was  nearly 
knocked  over  by  a  large  bloodhound  which  had  seized  me  by 
the  leg,  or  rather  by  the  trousers,  for  my  Wellington  boots 
had  fortunately  been  too  strong  for  his  teeth  to  penetrate.  I 
saw  that  in  another  moment  he  would  spring  at  my  throat  ; 
and  if  he  were  to  do  so,  it  would  certainly  be  all  over  with 
me.  Hardly  knowing  what  I  did  in  the  hurry  of  the  moment, 
I  let  fly  at  him  with  the  pistol.  The  ball,  I  suppose,  must 
have  pierced  his  heart,  for  he  fell  down  dead  in  a  moment. 
I  wasn't  a  bit  hurt,  though  it  was  a  hard  job  for  me  to  drag 
my  trousers  out  of  the  grip  of  his  teeth.  I  threw  the  pistol 
away,  and  was  just  going  to  make  a  bolt  for  it,  when  Clem 
called  to  me,  and  I  saw  him  close  by." 

"  What  is  this,  Clem  ?  "  I  asked.     "  What  dog  is  that  ?  " 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  it  is  poor  Neptune,  Captain  Gurdon's 
dog,"  he  answered.  "It  has  been  at  Holmwood  about  a 
year,  and  is  a  general  favourite.  But  I  saw  what  happened. 
You  couldn't  help  it." 

"  No,  of  course  he  couldn't,"  said  Burton.  "  The  dog,  I 
suppose,  saw  me  as  I  was  crossing  the  court  and  followed  me. 
I  didn't  see  or  hear  him,  until  just  as  I  was  getting  out  at  the 
end  of  the  drain,  and  then  he  pushed  by  me  and  sprang  upon 
George  before  I  could  interfere.  I  too  think  George  would 
have  been  killed,  if  he  hadn't  shot  him.  I  don't  think  any  one 


The  A  nswer  at  Last.  381 

could  be  more  sorry  than  I  was ;  but  George  only  did  it  to 
save  his  life." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Alford.  "  I  wish  I  could  have  gone 
to  Captain  Gurdon  and  told  him  what  had  happened.  But 
that,  of  course,  was  impossible.  Indeed  it  wouldn't  do 
for  me  to  stay  there  another  minute.  Clem  just  gave  me  the 
money ;  we  shook  hands,  and  I  ran  off.  I  found  the  two 
Bowles's  ready  to  start.  They  had  got  the  boat  down,  and  we 
were  off  immediately.  There  was  a  very  heavy  swell,  and 
what  with  that  and  the  strong  current  round  Crawley  Point, 
they  only  just  contrived  to  reach  the  Nereid  as  she  was  on 
the  very  point  of  starting.  I  had  meant  to  write  a  letter  to 
you,  Captain  Gurdon,  explaining  all  that  had  happened,  but 
there  wasn't  a  moment  in  which  I  could  do  so.  There  was 
only  just  time  to  heave  my  box  on  board  and  scramble  up 
myself  before  she  was  fairly  under  weigh.  I  did  write,  how- 
ever, two  letters,  one  to  Captain  Gurdon  the  other  to  Clement, 
and  gave  them  to  the  pilot,  who  promised  to  post  them  as 
soon  as  he  reached  the  shore.  I  was  afraid,  however,  from 
what  I  learnt  afterwards  that  he  was  not  to  be  trusted.  They 
said,  if  I  wanted  him  to  take  my  letters  right,  I  ought  not  to 
have  paid  him  beforehand.  Any  way,  I  fear  you  never  got 
the  letter,  Captain." 

"  No,  my  lad,"  answered  Gurdon.  "  I  didn't  got  the  letter. 
I  wish  I  had,  with  all  my  heart,  as  it  would  have  saved  a  deal 
of  trouble  and  mistake.  But,  any  way,  I  am  glad  I  have 
learnt  the  truth  now.  Shake  hands,  George.  It's  an  unlucky 
.business ;  but  it  would  be  hard  to  blame  you  for  it.  I  know 
you'd  no  more  willingly  have  hurt  my  poor  old  favourite,  than 
I  would  myself.  I'm  very  glad,  too,  to  find  that  my  friend, 


382  Who  did  it? 

Charlie  Temple,  has  been  suspected  without  reason.  I  was  as 
sure  as  I  could  be  of  any  thing,  that  he  too  would  never  have 
hurt  poor  old  Nep  intentionally,  and  if  he  had  done  it  acci- 
dentally, would  have  come  and  told  me  of  it.  I'm  also  bound 
to  add  that  I  am  sorry — heartily  sorry  for  having  suspected 
Graves  without  reason.  Graves,  I  ask  your  pardon,"  he  con- 
tinued, walking  up  to  the  boy  named.  "  Let  us  shake  hands 
upon  it." 

Graves  gave  him  his  hand,  though  he  said  nothing. 

"  Well  then,  sir,"  said  Mr  Hepburn,  "  I  suppose  we  may  con- 
clude that  this  matter  is  settled  and  done  with,  and  that  I  may 
read  out  the  list  of  marks,  which  I  made  up  finally  last  night ; 
and  that  the  boy  whose  name  stands  at  the  head  of  the  list 
will  receive  the  Hawley  prize." 

"  I  cannot  quite  say  that,  Mr  Hepburn;"  said  the  Doctor 
gravely.  The  four  head  boys  in  the  school  are  Burton, 
Temple,  Graves,  and  Cressingham.  Most  strangely,  as  well  as 
most  unfortunately,  very  serious  matters  have  been  charged 
against  all  these  four.  None  of  them,  I  rejoice  to  think,  is 
guilty  of  the  offence  which  has  caused  us  so  much  trouble 
throughout  the  last  few  months.  Graves  indeed,  I  consider  to 
deserve  no  further  blame.  He  has  already  been  punished 
for  the  possession  of  the  pistols,  and  the  fact  of  his  having 
gone  out  early  in  the  morning  to  receive  them  from  a  person 
who  brought  them  from  the  coach  office  is  not  a  serious  enough 
matter  to  oblige  me  to  place  a  second  black  cross  before  his 
name.  But  I  have  had  no  explanation  of  the  strange  con- 
duct of  Burton  and  Cressingham  in  leaving  the  house  yester- 
day and  remaining  out  all  night " 

"  I  can  explain  that,  sir,"  said  Alford.     "  Clement  has 


The  Answer  at  Last.  383 

:hroughout  been  anxious  that  Graves  and  Temple  should  be 
relieved  from  the  unjust  suspicion  he  knew  to  be  hanging  over 
:hem ;  but  he  could  not  disclose  the  truth,  without  betraying 
me.  He  has  written  several  times  to  Frank  Knyvett,  to  ask 
lim  if  he  had  heard  anything  of  my  return.  A  few  days  ago 
Frank  wrote  him  word  that  I  should  be  in  Wickfield  in  two 
Jays'  time ;  and  so  I  should  have  been,  if  the  ship  had  not 
Deen  delayed  four-and-twenty  hours  at  Plymouth.  He  wrote 
igain  intreating  me  to  come  here  immediately;  and  last  night, 
supposing  that  his  letter  had  miscarried,  he  set  off  him- 
self to  Wickfield  to  find  me  and  bring  me  here  in  time 
;o-day." 

"Humph!"  said  the  Doctor,  "  and  he  reached  Wickfield 
ind  passed  the  night  there  did  he  ?  " 

"No,  sir."  He  fell  in  with  me  on  the  Green  Holm.  We 
jassed  the  night  in  the  cottage  there,  and  came  on  this 
norning." 

"  And  you,  Cressingham  ?  "  pursued  the  Doctor. 

"  I  was  afraid  to  let  Burton  go  alone,  sir,"  answered  Cres- 
iingham. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Burton,  "  but  he  did  all  he  could  to  dissuade 
ne  from  going.  He  thought  I  was  ill,  though  I  was  really 
>nly  anxious  and  uneasy.  I  tried  to  persuade  him  too  to  stay 
it  home,  but  he  wouldn't." 

"  Dr  Thornton,  you  must  not  be  hard  on  these  lads,"  ex- 
claimed Mr  Lumley.  "  I  should  be  proud  of  them  if  they 
>elonged  to  me." 

"  And  so  should  I,"  added  Mr  Knyvett. 

"  I  wish  I  had  had  two  such  subs  in  my  regiment,"  remarked 
Colonel  Wilder. 


384  Who  did  it? 

"Or  middies  aboard  my  ship/'  supplemented  Captain 
Gurdon. 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  altogether  disagree  with  you,"  said  the 
headmaster,  smiling.  "  But  we  have  still  Temple's  case  to 
consider.  He  too  has  been  acquitted  of  the  grave  offence 
with  which  he  stood  charged.  But  what  am  I  to  think  of  his 
having  gone  out  by  this  secret  way  for  an  unlawful  purpose. 
I  cannot  tell  how  often  he  may  have  used  it.  I  know  that 
Mr  Hepburn,  in  whose  judgment  I  greatly  confide,  has  often 
expressed  an  opinion  about  him — " 

"May  I  ask  your  indulgence  for  one  moment,  sir,"  inter- 
posed Mr  Hepburn.  "  It  is  true  that  I  have  for  years  past 
entertained  a  very  low  opinion  of  Charles  Temple — an  opinion 
which  not  even  the  excellence  of  his  behaviour  and  his  extra- 
ordinary diligence  during  the  last  three  months  had  greatly 
altered.  But  I  was  present  accidentally  at  a  conversation 
between  him  and  his  friend  Harry  Wilder  two  days  ago,  which 
satisfied  me  that  on  more  than  one  point  I  had  done  him  great 
injustice.  As  some  atonement  for  that,  may  I  too  be  per- 
mitted to  request  that  this  last  offence  may  be  overlooked. 
Indeed,  I  feel  that,  considering  the  very  trying  circumstances 
under  which  it  was  committed,  it  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to 
weigh  down  the  good  conduct  and  hard  work  of  so  many 
weeks." 

"  Hepburn,  you're  a  good  fellow,"  exclaimed  Captain 
Gurdon.  "  Give  us  your  hand  and  let  us  be  friends.  Thornton, 
I  am  sure  you  won't  refuse  Mr  Hepburn's  petition." 

"  No,"  said  the  headmaster.  "  I  see  pretty  plainly,  if  I  did, 
I  should  have  every  one  against  me.  Well,  read  out  the 


The  Ansiver  at  Last. 

register  of  marks,  Mr  Hepburn.  The  first  on  it,  whoever  he 
is,  shall  have  the  prize." 

"  Then  I  have  to  announce,"  said  the  usher,  "  that  Temple 
is  the  winner,  but  only  by  two  marks.     The  numbers  are — 
Temple,     -  562 

Graves,      -  560 

Burton,  539 

I  ought  to  add  that  Graves's  work  since  August  last  has  been 
fully  as  good  as  that  of  Temple.  He  has  indeed  rather  gained 
upon  his  antagonist  than  lost  since  that  time.  It  was  only  the 
accident,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  of  Temple's  being  two  or  three  in 
advance  at  the  commencement  of  the  struggle,  which  has 
enabled  him  to  win.  Mr  Lumley  will,  I  am  sure,  be  glad  to 
hear  that." 

"  I  am,  indeed,  extremely  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Mr  Lumley. 
"  There  is  an  idea,  I  am  told,  in  the  school  that  Stephen  has 
only  worked  in  this  manner  in  order  to  earn  money  enough  to 
buy  a  gun  and  pistols,  which  he  has  long  been  anxious  to 
possess.  I  know  from  his  letters  to  me  that  it  was  a  worthier 
impulse  than  that,  though  not  perhaps  the  worthiest  of  all,  that 
has  made  him  so  exert  himself.  He  thought  he  had  been 
unfairly  judged,  and  wished  to  prove  the  fact  by  his  success. 
I  need  not  say  I  shall  take  care  that  he  is  well  rewarded." 
"And  you,  Burton?"  said  the  Doctor. 
"  I  am  very  glad,  sir,"  returned  the  boy.  "  I  have  been 
afraid  for  weeks  past  that  Temple  would  lose  this,  and  it  would 
be  most  unjust  if  he  did,  but  I  did  not  know  how  to  help  it." 
"  Well,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  I  am,  after  all,  inclined  to  believe 
that,  notwithstanding  all  these  troubles  and  anxieties,  I  have 
reason  to  be  proud  of  my  senior  boys.  Yet  I  am  inclined  to 

2  B 


386  Who  did  it? 

add  a  word  or  two  nevertheless.  Why  is  it  that  boys  can  be 
faithful  to  one  another,  and  show  generosity  and  self-denial  so 
far  as  they  are  concerned,  but  cannot  display  those  qualities 
towards  their  masters  ?  Why  is  it  they  can  trust  one  another, 
but  cannot  trust  us?  Here  is  George  Alford — he  was  my 
pupil  for  many  years.  So  are  Burton,  Cressingham,  Graves, 
and  Temple.  When  did  1  ever  break  faith  with  any  one  of 
them  ?  when  did  I  ever  show  myself  anything  but  their  truest 
and  best  friend  ?  Yet  not  one  of  them,  it  seems,  can  trust  me. 
George  Alford  will  not  come  up  to  the  house,  for  fear  I  might 
abuse  any  confidence  he  might  repose  in  me.  Temple  and 
Graves  will  neither  of  them  confide  to  me  the  true  facts  of  the 
case — I  suppose,  for  the  same  reason.  Burton  does  not  ask  me 
to  send  over  immediately  to  Wickfield  to  fetch  Alford,  or  beg 
me  to  suspend  my  decision  till  Alford  arrives.  Cressingham, 
again,  allows  his  friend  to  go  on  what  he  considers  a  dangerous 
expedition,  and  embarks  in  it  himself,  rather  than  reveal  his 
difficulty  to  me.  Yet  I  could  have  relieved  all  these  boys 
from  the  troubles  and  anxieties  they  have  been  undergoing  for 
months  past,  and  would  have  done  so  most  willingly.  Appar- 
ently there  is  a  gulf  between  masters  and  boys  which  we  in 
this  generation  cannot  pass.  All  I  can  hope  is  that  they  who 
shall  come  after  us  may  prove  more  successful." 


TURNBULL  AND  SPEAKS,  1'RINTERS. 


A  CATALOGUE  OF 


NEW&  POPULAE  WORKS, 


AND    OF     BOOKS 


FOB      CHILDREN, 


SUITABLE  FOR  PRESENTS,  SUNDAY  SCHOOL  LIBRARIES. 
AND  PRIZES. 


NEW  YORK  : 

E.  P.  DUTTON  &  CO., 

713,  BROADWAY. 
GRIFFITH  &  FABBAN,  ST.  PAUL'S  CHUBCHYABD,  LONDON.   II 

SM.4.8i.       Cancelling  all  previous  Editions  of  this  Catalogue. 


PAGE 

New  Books  and  Hew  Editions 3 

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HEROES    OF    HISTORY   AND    LEGEND. 

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"  People  who  give  it  away  are  likely  to  be  tempted  to  buy  a  new  copy  to 
keep." — Saturday  Review. 


Two  Dollars  and  Fifty  Cents  each,  cloth  elegant. 

The  Young  Buglers:  A  Tale  of  the  Peninsular  War.  By  G.  A. 
HENTY,  Author  of  "  Out  on  the  Pampas,"  &c.  With  Eight 
full-page  pictures  and  numerous  plans  of  Battles. 

The  Men  of  the  Backwoods  :  or,  Stories  and  Sketches  of  the  Indians 
and  the  Indian  Fighters.  By  ASCOTT  R.  HOPE,  author  of 
"  Heroes  of  Young  America,"  &c.  Thirty -three  Illustrations. 


Two  Dollars  each,  cloth  elegant,  with  Illustrations. 

*Kingston'B  (W.  H.  G.)  Will  Weatherhelm  :  OR,  THE  YARN  OF  AN 
OLD  SAILOR  ABOUT  HIS  EARLY  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES. 

*  „        The  Missing  Ship,  OR  NOTES  FROM  THE  LOG  OF  THE 

"  OUZEL  GALLEY." 

*  „        The  Three  Admirals,  AND  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  THEIR 

YOUNG  FOLLOWERS. 

*  „        The  Three  Lieutenants;  or,  NAVAL  LIFE  IN  THE  NINE- 

TEENTH CENTURY. 

*  „        The  Three  Commanders;  OR,  ACTIVE  SERVICE  AFLOAT 

IN  MODERN  TIMES. 

*  ,,        The  Three  Midshipmen.     New  Edition,  with  24  Illus- 

trations by  G.  THOMAS,  PORTCH,  etc. 

*  ,,        Hurricane  Hurry,  or   THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  NAVAL 

OFFICER  DURING  THE  AMERICAN  WAR  OF!NDEPENDENCE. 
„        True  Blue;  or,  The  Life  and  Adventures  of  a  British 

SEAMAN  OF  THE  OLD  SCHOOL. 
Ice  Maiden  AND  OTHER  STORIES.     By  HANS  CHRISTIAN  ANDERSEN. 

39  Illustrations  by  ZWECKER.     4to.,  Gilt  edges. 
*Journey  to  the  Centre  of  the  Earth.     Authorized  Translation. 
From  the  French  of  JULES  VERNE.     With  53  Illustrations. 


IMPORTED   BY    E.    P.    BUTTON   AND   CO.  11 


Two  Dollars  each — continued. 

Seven  Stories  about  Old  Folks  and  Young  Ones.     By  A.  R.  HOPE. 

(Not  illustrated.) 

The  Bird  and  Insects  Post  Office.       By   ROBERT  BLOOMFIELD. 

Illustrated  with  Thirty-five  Illustrations.      Crown  4to.     (Or 
paper  boards,  chromo  side.) 

Little   Maids.      Rhymes  with   Illustrations  by  Mrs.  W.  KEMP. 
Quarto,  gilt  edges. 


One  Dollar  and  Fifty  Cents  each,  cloth  elegant. 
Illustrated  by  eminent  Artists. 

Chums :   A  Story  for   the  Youngsters,    of  Schoolboy  Life  and 

Adventure.    By  HARLEIGH  SEVEKNE. 

Early  Start  in  Life  (The).    By  EMILIA  MARRYAT  NORRIS. 
Gentleman  Cadet  (The):  His  CAREER  AND  ADVENTURES  AT  THE  ROYAL 

ACADEMY,  WOOLWICH.     By   LIEUT.-COLONEL  DRAYSON. 
Gerald  and  Harry,  or  THE  BOYS  IN  THE  NORTH.    By  EMILIA 

MAKRYAT  NORRIS. 

Hair-Breadth  Escapee,  or  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  THREE  BOYS  IN 
SOUTH  AFRICA.    By  the  Rev.  H.  C.  ADAMS. 

Heroes  of  the  Crusades.     By  BARBARA  HUTTON. 

Home  Life  in  the  Highlands.     By  LILIAS  GRAEME. 

Household  Stories  from  the  land  of  Hofer,  or  POPULAR  MYTHS 

OP    TIROL,    INCLUDING     THE    ROSE     GARDEN     OF    KlNQ    LARYN. 

Kingston's  (W.  H.  G.)  John  Deane  of  Nottingham,  His  ADVEN- 
TURES AND  EXPLOITS. 

„       Rival  Crusoes  (The).  (Bevelled  boards,  gilt  edges,  $1'75). 
Out  on  the  Pampas,  or  THE  YOUNG  SETTLERS.    By  G.  A.  HENTY. 
Patranas,   or  SPANISH    STORIES,   LEGENDARY   AND  TRADITIONAL. 

By  the  Author  of  "Household  Stories." 

Swift  and  Sure,  or  THE  CAREER  OF  Two  BROTHERS.    By  A.  ELWEB. 
Tales  of  the  Saracens.     By  BARBARA  HUTTON. 
Tales  of  the  White  Cockade.    By  BARBARA  HUTTON. 

Workman  and  Soldier.      A  TALE  OF  PARIS  LIFE  DURING  THE 
SIEGE  AND  THE  RULE  OF  THE  COMMUNE.    By  JAMES  F.  COBB. 


12  NEW   AND   POPULAR   WORKS 

One  Dollar  and  Fifty  Cents  each,  cloth,  Illustrated, 
gilt  edges. 

Elwes'  (A.)  Luke  Ashleigh,  or  SCHOOL  LIFE  IN  HOLLAND. 

,,      Paul  Blake,  or  A  Box's  PERILS  IN  CORSICA  AND  MONTE 

CRISTO. 
Neptune's  Heroes,  or  THE  SEA  KINGS  OP  ENGLAND,  FROM  HAWKINS 

TO  FRANKLIN.    By  W.  H.  DAVENPORT  ADAMS. 
Talks   about   Plants,  or  EARLY  LESSONS  IN   BOTANY.      By  Mrs. 
LANKESTER.     With  six  Coloured  Plates  and  numerous  Wood 
Engravings. 

A  UNIFORM  SERIES  OF  ONE  DOLLAR  AND  FIFTY 

CENT  BOOKS. 

Square  Crown.  8vo.,  gilt  edges, 

The  Day  of  Wonders :  A  MEDLEY  OF  SENSE  AND  NONSENSE.    By 

M.  SULLIVAN.    30  Illustrations  by  W.  G.  BROWNE. 
Harty  the  Wanderer ;  or,  CONDUCT  is  FATE.    A  Tale  by  FAIRLEIGH 

OWEN.    28  Illustrations  by  JOHN  PROCTOR. 

A   Wayside   Posy.      GATHERED   FOR   GIRLS.      By  F.  LABLACHE. 
15  Illustrations  by  A.  H.  COLLINS. 


Two  Dollars  each,  cloth  elegant,  Illustrated. 

Extraordinary  Nursery  Rhymes  ;  New,  yet  Old.  Translated  from 
the  Original  Jingle  into  Comic  Verse  by  One  who  was  once  a 
Child.  60  Illustrations,  Small  4to. 

Favourite  Picture  Book  (The)  and  Nursery  Companion.  Com- 
piled anew  by  UNCLE  CHARLIE.  With  450  Illustrations  by 
ABSOLON,  ANELAY,  BENNETT,  BROWNE  (Pniz),  SIR  JOHN  GIL- 
BERT. T.  LANDSEER,  LEECH,  PROUT,  HARRISON  WEIR,  and  others. 
Medium  4to,  cloth  elegant  (or  coloured  Illustrations,  $4-00.) 

Little  Gipsy  (The).  By  ELIE  SAUVAGE.  Translated  by  ANNA 
BLACKWELL.  Prof  usely  illustrated  by  ERNEST  FROLICH.  Small 
4  to. 

Norstone ;    or,  RIFTS  IN  THE  CLOUDS.    By  M.  E.  HATTERSLEY. 

Merry  Songs  for  Little  Voices.  Words  by  Mrs.  BRODERIP.  Music 
by  THOMAS  MURBY.  With  40  Illustrations.  Fcap.  4to. 

Stories  from  the  Old  and  New  Testaments.  By  the  Rev.  B.  H. 
DRAPER.  With  48  Engravings. 

Trimmer's  History  of  the  Robins.  Written  for  the  Instruction  of 
Children  on  their  treatment  of  Animals.  With  24  Illus- 
trations bv  HARRISON  WEIR.  Small  4to,  gilt  edges. 


IMPORTED   BY   E.    P.   BUTTON   AND   CO.  13 

One  Dollar  and  Fifty  Cents  each,  cloth  elegant,  with 
Illustrations. 

Alda  Graham  ;  and  her  Brother  Philip.    By  E.  MABRYAT  NORMS. 

"  Buttons."  THE  TRIALS  AND  TRAVELS  OF  A  YOUNG  GENTLEMAN. 
By  ASCOTT  R.  HOPE. 

Casimir,  the  Little  Exile.    By  CAROLINE  PEACHET. 

Cornertown  Chronicles.  NEW  LEGENDS  OF  OLD  LORE  WRITTEN 
FOR  THE  YOUNG.  By  KATHLEEN  KNOX. 

Favourite  Fables  in  Prose  and  Verse.  With  24  beautiful  Illus- 
trations from  Drawings  by  HARRISON  WEIR.  Small  4to. 

Fiery  Cross  (The),  OR  THE  vow  OF  MONTRQSE.   By  BARBARA  HUTTON. 

Mandarin's  Daughter  (The):  A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  TAEPING 
REBELLION.  By  SAMUEL  MOSSMAN. 

Modern  British  Plutarch  (The),  or  LIVES  OF  MEN  DISTINGUISHED 

IN    THE    RECENT  HlSTOBY  OF  OUR  COUNTRY  FOR  THEIB  TALENTS, 

VIRTUES,  AND   ACHIEVEMENTS.    By  W.  C.  TAYLOR,  LL.D. 

Oak  Staircase,  (The)  or  THE  STORIES  OF  LORD  AND  LADY  DESMOND  ; 
a  Narrative  of  the  Times  of  James  II.  By  M.  and  C.  LEE. 

Eoyal  Umbrella  (The).  By  MAJOR  A.  F.  P.  HARCOURT,  Author  of 
"  The  Shakespeare  Argosy,"  &c.,  &c.  With  4  full-page  Illus- 
trations by  LINLEY  SAMBOURNE. 

Silver  Linings  :    or,  LIGHT  AND   SHADE.      By  Mrs.  REGINALD  M. 

BRAY. 

Tales  and  Legends  of  Saxony  and  Lusatia.    By  W.  WESTALL. 
Theodora:  a  Tale  for  Girls.    By  EMUJA  MARRYAT  NOBRIS. 
Zipporah,  the  Jewish  Maiden.     By  M.  E.  BEWSHEB. 


One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  Cents  plain ;  or  coloured  plates 
and  gilt  edges,  One  Dollar  and  Seventy-five  Cents,  Super 

Royal  IQmo,  cloth  elegant,  with  Illustrations. 
Aunt  Jenny's  American  Pets.   By  CATHERINE  C.  HOPLEY. 
Broderip  (Mrs.)  Crosspatch,  the  Cricket,  and  the  Counterpane. 
„      Tales  of  the  Toys.    TOLD  BY  THEMSELVES. 
,,       Tiny  Tadpole,  AND  OTHER  TALES. 

Cousin  Trix,  AND  HEB  WELCOME  TALES.    By  GEORGIANA  CRAIK. 
Cosmorama:  THE  MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  OF  ALL  NATIONS  OF  THK 

WORLD  DESCRIBED.    By  J.  ASPIN. 
Distant  Homes,  or  THE  GRAHAM  FAMILY  IN  NEW  ZEALAND.    BY 

Mrs.  T.  E.  AYLMER. 
Early  Days  of  English  Princes.     By  Mrs.  RUSSELL  GRAY. 


14  NEW   AND   POPULAE    WOBK.S 

One  Dollar  and  Twenty-Jive  Cents  each — continued. 
Echoes  of  an  Old  Bell.  By  the  Hon.  AUGUSTA  BETHELL. 
Facts  to  Correct  Fancies,  or  SHORT  NARRATIVES  OP  REMARKABLE 

WOMEN. 
Fairy  Land,  or  RECREATION  FOR  THE  RISING  GENERATION,  in  Prose 

and  Verse.    By  THOMAS  and  JANE  HOOD.     Illustrated  by  T. 

HOOD,  Jun. 
Feathers    and    Fairies,  or  STORIES  FROM  THE  REALMS  OF  FANCY 

By  the  Hon.  AUGUSTA  BETHELL. 
Garden   (The),    or  FREDERICK'S   MONTHLY   INSTRUCTION  FOR  THE 

MANAGEMENT  AND  FORMATION  OF  A  FLOWER  GARDEN.    With 

Illustrations  by  SOWERBY.     (§l-75  coloured?) 
Hacco  the  Dwarf,  or  THE  TOWER  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN,  and  other 

Tales.    By  LADY  LUSHINGTON. 
Happy  Home  (The),  or  THE  CHILDREN  AT  THE  RED  HOUSE.    By 

LADY  LUSHINGTON. 

Helen  in  Switzerland.    By  the  Hon.  AUGUSTA  BETHELL. 
Lightsome  and  the  Little  Golden  Lady.     Written  and  Illustrated 

by  C.  H.  BENNETT.     Twenty-four  Engravings. 
Nursery  Times,  or  STORIES  ABOUT  THE  LITTLE  ONES.    By  an  Old 

Nurse. 
Peep  at  the  Pixies  (A),  or  LEGENDS  OF  THE  WEST.    By  Mrs.  BRAY. 

Seven    Birthdays  (The),  or  THE  CHILDREN  OF  FORTUNE.      By 

KATHLEEN  KNOX. 
Starlight  Stories,  TOLD  TO  BRIGHT  EYES  AND  LISTENING  EARS. 

By  FANNY  LABLACHB. 

Stories  of  Edward,  AND  ras  LITTLE  FRIENDS. 
Tales  of  Magic  and  Meaning.    Written  and  Illustrated  by  ALFRED 

CHOWQUILL. 


One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five.  Cents  each,  doth  elegant,  with 

Illustrations  by  eminent  Artists. 

Cast  Adrift,  the  Story  of  a  "Waif.     By  Mrs.  HERBERT  MARTIN. 
Castles  and  their  Heroes.    By  BARBARA  HUTTON. 
Clement's   Trial  and  Victory,  or  SOWING   AND   REAPING.      By 

M.  E.  B.  (Mrs.  GELLIE).     Third  Thousand. 
College  Days  at  Oxford.    By  the  Rev.  C.  H.  ADAMS. 
Faggots  for  the  Fireside,   or  TALES  OF  FACT  AND  FANCY.     By 

PETER  PARLEY. 

Great   and  Small ;  SCENES  IN  THE  LIFE  OF  CHILDREN.      Translated 
from  the  French  by  Miss  HARRIET  POOLE.  61  Illustrations. 


IMPORTED   BY    E.    P.   BUTTON   AND   CO.  15 

One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  Cents  each — continued. 
Grey  Towers;  or  AUNT  HETTY'S  WILL.     By  II.  M.  POLLARD. 
Isabel's  Difficulties,  or  LIGHT  ON  THE  DAILY  PATH.    By  M.  R.  CARET. 
Joachim's  Spectacles :  A  LEGEND  OF  FLORENTHAL.  ByM.  &C.LEE. 

Kingston's   (W.H.G.)  Fred  Markham  in  Russia,    or,   TEE  BOY 

TRAVELLERS  IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  CZAR. 
„       Manco  the  Peruvian  Chief. 
„       Mark   Seaworth;    a  Tale  of   the   Indian  Ocean. 

,,       Peter  the  Whaler;    HIS   EARLY   LIFE   AND   ADVENTURES 

IN  THE  ARCTIC  REGIONS. 
„       Salt  Water,  or  NEIL  D'ARCY'S  SEA  LIFE  AND  ADVENTCRES. 

Lee  (Mrs.)  Anecdotes  of  the  Habits  and  Instincts  of  Animals. 

.,       Anecdotes  of  the  Habits  and  Instincts  of  Birds,  Reptiles, 

and  Fishes. 
,,       Adventures  in  Australia,  or  THE  WANDERINGS  OF  CAPTAIN 

SPENCER  IN  THE  BUSH  AND  THE  WILDS. 

„      The  African  Wanderers,  or  CARLOS  AND  ANTONIO. 

Little    May's    Friends,    or    COUNTRY  PETS  AND  PASTIMES.    By 

ANNIE  WHETTEM. 
Millicent  and  Her   Cousins.      By   the   Hon.   AUGUSTA  BETHELL. 

Mudge  and  Her  Chicks  :  A  Story  of  Children's  Home  Doings.     By 

a  BROTHER  and  SISTER. 
New    Girl  (The),   or  THE   RIVALS;    a  Tale  of  School  Life.     By 

M.  E.  B.  (Mrs.  GELLIE). 
Nimpo's  Troubles.     By  OLIVE  THOBNE  MILLER,  Author  of  "Little 

Folks  in  Feather  and  Fur." 
North  Pole  (The) ;  AND  How  CH.VKLIE  WILSON  DISCOVERED  IT.    By 

the  Author  of  "Realms  of  the  Ice  King,"  <fcc. 

Our  Old  Uncle's  Home;   AND  WHAT  THE  BOYS  DID  THERE.     By 

Mother  CAREY. 
Queen   Dora:    TIIE  LIFE  AND  LESSONS  OF  A  LITTLE  GIRL.      By 

KATHLEEN  KNOX. 

Rosamond  Fane,  or  THE  PRISONERS  OF  ST.  JAKES.    By  M.  and  C. 

LEE. 
Talent    in    Tatters,  or  SOME  VICISSITUDES  IN   THE   LIFE  OF   AN 

ENGLISH  BOY.    By  HOPE  WBATTHE. 

The  Triumphs  of  Steam,  or  STORIES  FROM  THE  LIVES  OF  WATT, 
ARKWRIGHT,  AND  STEPHENSON. 

The  Whispers  of  a  Shell,  or  STORIES  or  TECS  SKA.     By  FRANCES 
FREELJNG  BRODERIP. 


16  NEW   AND   POPULAR    WORKS 

One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  Cents  each,  cloth  elegant, 

Illustrated. 
Among  the  Zulus.     By  LIEUT-COL.  DRAYSON.     Cloth,  gilt  edges. 

Attractive  Picture  Book  (The).     A  New  Gift  Book  from  the  Old 
Corner,  containing  numerous  Illustrations  by  eminent  Artists. 
Bound  in  Elegant  Paper  Boards,  Royal  4  to,  price  $1'25  each 
plain;  $2-00  coloured;  $3'00  mounted  on  cloth  and  coloured. 

Berries  and  Blossoms :  a  Verse  Book  for  Young  People.  By  T. 
WESTWOOD. 

Bible  Illustrations,  or  A  DESCRIPTION  OF  MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 
PECULIAR  TO  THE  EAST.  By  the  Rev.  B.  H.  DRAPER.  Revised 
by  Dr.  Krrro. 

The  fiird  and  Insects'  Post  Office.  By  ROBERT  BLOOMFIELD,  Author 
of  "Rural  Tales,"  &c.  Illustrated  with  Thirty-five  Wood 
Engravings.  Crown  4:to.,  paper  boards,  with  Chromo  side, 
(or  cloth  elegant,  $T75.) 

British  History  Briefly  Told  (The),  AND  A  DESCRIPTION  OF  THB 
ANCIENT  CUSTOMS,  SPORTS,  AND  PASTIMES  OF  THB  ENGLISH. 

Four  Seasons  (The) ;  A  Short  Account  of  the  Structure  of  Plants, 
being  Four  Lectures  written  for  the  Working  Men's  Institute, 
Paris.  With  Illustrations.  Imperial  16mo. 

Family  Bible  Newly  Opened  (The) ;  WITH  UNCLE  GOODWIN'S 
ACCOUNT  OF  IT.  By  JEFFREYS  TAYLOR.  Fcap.  8vo. 

Glimpses  of  Nature,  AND  OBJECTS  OF  INTEREST  DESCRIBED  DURING 
A  VISIT  TO  THE  ISLE  OF  WIGHT.  By  Mrs.  LOUDON.  Forty- 
one  Illustrations. 

History  of  the  Robins  (The).  By  Mrs.  TRIMMER.  In  Words  of 
One  Syllable.  Edited  by  the  Rev.  CHARLES  SWETE,  M.A. 

Historical  Acting  Charades,  or  AMUSEMENTS  FOR  WINTER  EVENINGS. 
By  the  Author  of  "  Cat  and  Dog,"  etc.  Fcap.  8vo. 

Infant  Amusements,  or  How  TO  MAKE  A  NURSERY  HAPPY.  With 
Practical  Hints  on  the  Moral  and  Physical  Training  of  Children. 
By  W.  H.  G.  KINGSTON. 

Little  Margaret's  Bide  to  the  Isle  of  Wight ;  or,  THE  WONDERFUL 
ROCKING  HORSE.  By  Mrs.  FREDERICK  BROWN.  With  Eight 
Illustrations  in  chromo-lithography,  by  HELEN  S.  TATHAM. 
Crown  4to.,  cloth. 

Man's  Boot  (The),  AND  OTHER  STORIES  IN  WORDS  OF  ONE  SYLLABLE. 
Illustrations  by  HARRISON  WEIR.  4to.,  gilt  edges. 

The  Mine,  or  SUBTERRANEAN  WONDERS.  An  Account  of  the  Opera- 
tions of  the  Miner  and  the  Products  of  his  Labours. 

Modern  Sphinx  (The).  A  Collection  of  ENIGMAS,  CHARADES,  RE- 
BUSES, DOUBLE  AND  TRIPLE  ACROSTICS,  ANAGRAMS,  LOGOGRIPHS, 
METAGRAMS,  VERBAL  PUZZLES,  CONUNDRUMS,  etc.  Fcap.  8vo. 


IMPOETED   BY   E.    P.    DUTTON   AND    CO.  17 


One  Dollar  and  Twenty-Jive  Cents  each — continued. 
Sunbeam :  a  Fairy  Tale.    By  Mrs.  PIETZKER. 

Sylvia's  New  Home,  a  Story  for  the  Young.    By  Mrs.  J.  F.  B. 
FIRTH. 

Taking  Tales.    Edited  by  "W.  H.  G.  KINGSTON.    In  Plain  Language 
and  Large  Type.     New  Edition.     Two  vola. 

May  also  be  bad  in  4  vols,  50c.  each ;  and  12  parts,  25c.  and  20c.  each. 


One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  Cents, plain. 

Bear  King  (The) :  a  Narrative  confided  to  the  Marines  by  JAMES 
GREENWOOD.  With  Illustrations  by  ERNEST  GRISET.  Small  4to. 

Familiar  Natural  History.  By  Mrs.  R.  LEE.  With  42  Illustra- 
tions by  HARRISON  WEIR. 

*»•  Also,  in  Two  Vols.,  entitled  "British  Animals  and  Birds," 
"  Foreign  Animals  and  Birds."  75c.  each,  plain;  $1-00  coloured. 

Old  Nurse's  Book  of  Rhymes,  Jingles,  and  Ditties.  Illustrated 
by  C.  H.  BENNETT.  Ninety  Engravings. 

Our  Soldiers,  or  ANECDOTES  OF  THE  CAMPAIGNS  AND  GALLANT 
DEEDS  OP  THB  BRITISH  ARMT  DURING  THE  REIGN  OF  HER 
MAJESTY  QDEEN  VICTORIA.  By  W.  H.  G.  KINGSTON.  With 
Frontispiece.  New  and  Revised  Edition.  Eighth  Thousand. 

Our  Sailors,  or  ANECDOTES  OP  THE  ENGAGEMENTS  AND  GALLANT 
DEEDS  OF  THE  BRITISH  NAVT.  With  Frontispiece.  New 
and  Revised  Edition.  Eighth  Thousand. 

The  Favourite  Picture  Book  and  Nursery  Companion.  Compiled 
anew  by  UNCLE  CHARLIE.  With  450  Illustrations  by  eminent 
artists.  In  Two  Vols.,  Cloth  elegant. 

May  also  bo  had  in  the  following  styles.  One  Vol.,  Cloth,  $2-00,  or 
coloured  Illustrations,  gilt,  $4'00.  Four  Parts,  paper  covers, 
75c.  each,  or  coloured  Illustrations,  $1-25  each. 

Fruits  of  Enterprise,  EXHIBITED  IN  THE  TRAVELS  OF  BELZONI  IN 
EGYPT  AND  NDBIA.  With  Six  Engravings  by  BIRKET  FOSTER. 


18  NEW   AND   POPULAR   WORKS 


Seventy-Jive    Cents    each    plain,    Super    Royal    IQmo, 

doth  elegant,  with  Illustrations  ~by  Harrison  Weir 

and  others. 

Adventures  and  Experiences  of  Biddy  Dorking  and  of  the  Fat 
Frog.     Edited  by  Mrs.  S.  0.  HALL. 

Amy's  Wish,  and  What  Came  of  It.    By  Mrs.  TYLEE. 
Animals  and  their  Social  Powers.    By  MAET  TURNER- ANDREWES. 
Cat  and  Dog,  or  MEMOIRS  op  Puss  AND  THE  CAPTAIN. 
Crib  and  Fly:  a  Tale  of  Two  Terriers. 

Doll  and  Her  Friends  (The),  or  MEMOIRS  OF  THE  LADY  SERAPHINA. 
By  the  Author  of  "  Cat  and  Dog." 

Early  Dawn  (The),  or  STORIES  TO  THINK  ABOUT. 

Every  Inch  a  King,  or  THE  STORY  OF  REX  AND  HIS  FRIENDS.    By 

Mrs.  J.  WOKEHINGTON  BLISS. 

Fairy  Gifts,  or  A  WALLET  OF  WONDERS.    By  KATHLEEN   KNOX. 
Funny  Fables  for  Little  Folks. 

Fun  and   Earnest,  or   RHYMES    WITH    REASON.     By  D'ARCY  W. 
THOMPSON.    Illustrated  by  C.  H.  BENNETT.     Imperial  16mo. 

Gerty  and  May.     Eighth  Thousand. 

By  the  same  Author. 
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Children  of  the  Parsonage. 


Our  White  Violet. 


Sunny  Days,  OR  A  MONTH  AT 
THE  GREAT  STOWE. 


The  New  Baby. 


Jack  Frost  and  Betty  Snow ;  with  other  Tales  for  Wintry  Nights 
and  Rainy  Days. 

Lost   in   the  Jungle;    A    TALE    OF   THE   INDIAN   MUTINY.     By 
AUGUSTA  MARRYAT. 

Madelon.     By  ESTHER  CARR. 

Neptune:    or  THE    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  A   NEWFOUNDLAND  Doo. 

Nonas  (Emilia  Marry  at.)    A  Week  by  Themselves. 

By  the  same  Author. 
Adrift  on  the  Sea.  Snowed  Up. 


Geoftry's  Great  Fault. 
Seaside  Home. 


Stolen  Cherries. 

What  became  of  Tommy. 


IMPORTED   BY   E.    P.    DtJTTON    AND    CO.  19 

Seventy-Jive  Cents  each — continued. 
Odd  Stories  about  Animals:  told  in  Short  and  Easy  Words. 

Our  Home  in  the  Marsh  Land,  or  DATS  OF  AULD  LANG  SYNE. 
By  E.  L.  F. 

Scripture  Histories  for  Little  Children.     With  Sixteen  Illustrations 
by  JOHN  GILBERT. 

CONTENTS  : — The  History  of  Joseph — History  of  Moses — History 
of  our  Saviour — The  Miracles  of  Christ. 

Secret  of  Wrexford  (The),  or  STELLA  DESMOND'S   SECRET.     By 

ESTHER  CARR. 
Tales  from  Catland.     Dedicated  to  the  Young  Kittens  of  England. 

By  an  OLD  TABBY.    Seventh  Thousand. 

Talking  Bird  (The),   or  THE  LITTLE  GIRL  WHO  KNEW  WHAT  WAS 
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Ten  of  Them,  or  THE  CHILDREN  OF  DANEHURST.    By  Mrs.  R.  M. 
BRAY. 

"Those  Unlucky  Twins!"    By  A.  LYSTER. 

Tiny  Stories  for  Tiny  Headers  in  Tiny  Words. 

Tittle  Tattle;  and  other  Stories  for  Children.    By  the  Author  of 

"Little  Tales  for  Tiny  Tots,"  etc. 
Trottie's  Story  Book:    True  Tales   in   Short   Words   and  Large 

Type. 

Tuppy,  or  THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  A  DONKEY. 
Wandering  Blindfold,  or  A  BOY'S  TROUBLES.     By  MARY  ALBERT. 


One  Dollar  each,  with  Illustrations,  doth  elegant. 
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„  „        The  Holidays  Abroad,  or  RIGHT  AT  LAST. 

William  Allair,  or  RUNNING  AWAY  TO  SEA.    By  Mrs.  H.  WOOD. 

Among  the  Zulus  :  the  Adventures  of  Hans  Sterk,  South  African 
Hunter  and  Pioneer.  By  LIEUT.  -COLONEL  A.  W.  DRAYSON,  R.A. 

Boy's  Own  Toy  Maker  (The) :  a  Practical  Illustrated  Guide  to  the 
useful  employment  of  Leisure  Hours.  By  E.  LAN  DELLS.  200 
Illustrations. 


20  NEW   AND   POPULAE   WORKS 

One  Dollar  each — continued. 

The  Cruise  of  Ulysses  and  his  Men ;  or,  Tales  and  Adventures 

from  the  Odyssey,  for  Boys  and  Girls.     By  C.  M.  BELL.     With 

Seven  Illustrations  by  P.  PRIOLO.     Fcap.  8vo. 
Girl's  Own  Toy  Maker  (The),  AKD  BOOK  OF  RECREATION.    By  E. 

and  A.  LANDELLS.    With  200  Illustrations. 
The  Guests  of  Flowers  :  A  Botanical  Sketch.  By  Mrs.  MEETKERKE. 

With  Prefatory  Letter  By  Dr.  THEODORE  KEENER.     Cloth, 

small  4to. 
Little  Child's  Fable  Book.    Arranged  Progressively  in  One,  Two 

and  Three  Syllables.  16  Page  Illus.  ($1'50  coloured,  gilt  edges.) 
Little  Pilgrim  (The).  Revised  and  Illustrated  by  HELEN  PETRIE. 
Model  Yachts,  and  Model  Yacht  Sailing:  How  TO  BUILD,  RIG, 

AND  SAIL  A  SELF-ACTING  MODEL  YACHT.     By  JAS.  E.  WALTON, 

Y.M.Y.C.     Fcap.  4to. ,  with  58  Woodcuts. 
Silly  Peter:   A  QUEER  STORY  OF  A  DAFT  Bor,  A  PRINCE,  AND  A 

MILLER'S  DAUGHTER.     By  W.  NOBRIS. 
Spring   Time ;     or.    Words  in   Season.     A  Book   for  Girls.      By 

SIDNEY  Cox.     Third  Edition. 


A  NEW  UNIFORM -SERIES  OF  ONE  DOLLAR  WORKS. 
Cloth  elegant,  fatty  Illustrated, 

African  Pete :  or,  CHATS  ABOUT  OUR  ANIMAL  FRIENDS  IN  NATAL, 
WITH  A  SKETCH  OF  KAFFIR  LIFE.  By  F.  CLINTON  PARRY. 

Bunchy  :  or,  THE  CHILDREN  OF  SCARSBROOK  FARM.  By  Miss  E.  C. 
PHILLIPS,  Author  of  "The  Orphans,"  &c. 

A  Daring  Voyage  across  the  Atlantic,  by  Two  Americans,  the 
Brothers  ANDREWS,  in  a  small  Boat,  the  Nautilus.  The  Log 
of  the  Voyage  by  Captain  WILLIAM  A.  ANDREWS,  with  Intro- 
duction and  Not«s  by  Dr.  MACAULAY,  Editor  of  the  Boy's  Own 
Paper. 

Hilda  and  her  Doll.  By  E.  C.  PHILLIPS,  Author  of  "  Bunchy,"  &c. 

The  House  on  the  Bridge,  and  other  Tales.  By  C.  E.  BOWEX, 
Author  of  "  Among  the  Brigands,"  &c. 

Kitty  and  Bo :  or,  THE  STORY  OF  A  VERY  LITTLE  GIRL  AND  BOY. 
By  A.  T.  With  Frontispiece. 

On  the  Leads  :  or,  WHAT  THE  PLANETS  SAW.  By  Mrs.  A.  A. 
STRANGK  BUTSON. 

Two  Bose  Trees  :  The  Adventures  of  Twin  Sisters.  By  Mrs. 
MINNIE  DOUGLAS. 

Ways  and  Tricks  of  Animals,  WITH  STORIES  ABOUT  AUNT  MARY'S 
PETS.  By  MARY  HOOPER. 


IMPOETED    BY    E.    P.    DUTTON   AND    CO.  21 


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Twenty-four  pages  of  Illustrations. 

Funny  Picture  Book  (The);  or,  25  FUNNY  LITTLE  LESSONS.  A 
free  translation  from  the  German  of  "  DER  KLEINE  A.B.C. 
SCHUTZ." 

Loves  of  Tom  Tncker  and  Little  Eo-Peep.  Written  and  Illus- 
trated by  THOMAS  HOOD. 

Spectropia,  or  SURPRISING  SPECTRAL  ILLUSIONS,  showing  Ghosts 
everywhere,  and  of  any  Colour.  By  J.  EL  BROWN. 

Upside  Down :  a  Series  of  Amusing  Pictures  from  Sketches  by  the 
late  W.  McCoNNELL,  with  Verses  by  THOMAS  HOOD. 


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HARLAND.    By  Mrs.  BARWELL. 
Little  Lessons  for  Little  Learners,  in  Words  of  One  Syllable.    By 

Mrs.  BAXWELL. 

Mamma's    Bible    Stories,    FOR    HER    LITTLE    BOYS    AND    GIRLS. 
Mamma's  Bible  Stories  (A  Sequel  to). 
Mamma's  Lessons,  FOR  HER  LITTLE  BOYS  AND  GIRLS. 
Silver  Swan   (The) :    a  Fairy  Tale.     By  MADAME  DE  CHATELAIN. 
Tales  of  School  Life.     By  AONES  LOUDON. 
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GREY. 

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FRANCES  POWER  COBBE.    With  a  Photograph  of  the  Dog  from 

Life,  by  FRANK  HAES. 
Home  Amusements:   a  Choice  Collection   of  Riddles,   Charades, 

Conundrums,  Parlour  Games,  and  Forfeits. 
How  to  Make  Dolls'  Fnrnitnre  AND  TO  FURNISH  A  DOLL'S  HOUSE. 

With  70  Illustrations.     Small  4to. 
Illustrated  Paper  Model  Maker.     By  E.  LANDELLS. 
Scenes    of    Animal    Life    and    Character,    FROM    NATURE    AND 

RECOLLECTION.   In  Twenty  Plates.  By  J.  B.   4to,  fancy  boards. 
Surprising  Adventures  of  the  Clumsy  Boy   Crusoe  (The).    By 

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22  NEW   AND    POPULAR   WORKS 

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M.E.B  (Mrs.  GELLIE).     Fifth  Thousand. 

Featherland;    or,  How  THE  BIRDS  LIVED  AT  GREENLAWN.    By 
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"  Gerty  and  May,"  &c. 

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THE  ROYAL  GEORGE. 

Lee's  (Mrs.   R.)   Playing  at  Settlers;    or,  THE   FAGGOT    HOUSE. 

Twelve    Stories    of    the   Sayings    and    Doings 

of  Animals. 

Little  Lisette,  THE  ORPHAN  OF  ALSACE.    By  M.E.B.  (Mrs.  GELLIE). 

Live  Toys ;  OR,  ANECDOTES  OF  OUR  FOUR-LEGGED  AND  OTHER  PETS. 

By  EMMA  DAVENPORT. 
Long  Evenings ;  or,  STORIES  FOR  MY  LITTLE  FRIENDS.    By  EMILIA 

MARRYATT. 
Three  Wishes  (The).    By  M.E.B.  (Mrs.  GELLIE). 


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LISA  LOCKYER. 

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Corner  Cottage,  and  Its  Inmates.    By  FRANCES  OSBORNE. 
Father  Time's  Story  Book  for  the  Little  Ones.  By  KATHLEEN  KNOX. 
From  Peasant  to  Prince,    or  THE  LIFE  OF  ALEXANDER  MENSCHI- 

KOFF.    By  Mrs.  PIETZKER. 
Granny's  Wonderful  Chair.     By  B.  F.  BROWNE. 

Happy  Holidays  :   or,  BROTHERS  AND  SISTERS  AT  HOME.    By  EMMA 
DAVENPORT. 


IMPOETED   BT   E.    P.    BUTTON   AND    CO.  23 


Fifty  Cents  each — continued. 

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Lucy's    Campaign:     a    Story    of    Adventure.      By    MARY   and 

CATHERINE  LEE. 
My   Grandmother's   Budget   OF   STORIES  AND  VERSES.    By  Mrs. 

BRODERIP. 

Every-Day  Things,  or  USEFUL  KNOWLEDGE  RESPECTING  THE  PRIN- 
CIPAL  ANIMAL,    VEGETABLE,    AND    MINERAL    SUBSTANCES    IN 

COMMON  USE. 
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Fancy  boards. 
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and  Large  Type.     Four  vols. 
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A  NEW  UNIFORM  SERIES  OF  BOOKS  AT  40  CENTS  EACH. 
All  Illustrated.     Attractively  bound  in  cloth,printed  in  silver  and  gold. 

Alice  and  Beatrice.    By  GRANDMAMMA. 

Among  the  Brigands,  and  other  Tales   of   Adventure.       Fourth 

Thousand. 
Children's  Picnic  (The)  :  AND  WHAT  CAME  OF  IT.   By  E.  MAERYAT 

NORRIS. 
Christian  Elliott:  or,  MBS.  DANVER'S  PBIZE.    By  L.  N.  COHYN. 

Fourth  Thousand. 
Discontented  Children  (The),  AND  HOW  THEY  WERE  CURED.    By  M. 

and  E.  KIKBY. 
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BOWEN. 

Harry  at  School.    A  Story  for  Boys.    By  E.  MARRYAT  NOKRIS. 
Holiday    Tales.      By  FLORENCE  WILFORD. 
Holidays  among  the  Mountains,  or  SCENES  AND  STORIES  OF  WALES. 

By  M.  BETHAM  EDWARDS. 

Julia  Maitland,  or,  PRIDE  GOEB  BEFORE  A  FALL.    BY  M.  &  E.  KIKBY. 
Paul    Howard's    Captivity,    AND    WHY    HE   ESCAPED.       By    E. 

MARHYAT  NORRIS. 
Wrecked,  Not  Lost;  or  THE  PILOT  AND  ms  COMPANION.    By  the 

Hon.  Mrs.  DUNDAS.     Fifth  Thousand. 


24  NEW   AND   POPULAR   WORKS 


THE    FAVOURITE    LIBRARY. 

New  Editions  of  the  Volumes  in  this  Series  are  being  issued,  and 
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Cloth  elegant,  with  coloured  frontispiece  and  title-page, 
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1.  The  Eskdale  Herd  Boy.    Br  LADY  STODDAKT. 

2.  Mrs.  Leicester's  School.     BY  CHARLES  and  MARY  LAMB. 

3.  The  History  of  The  Eobina.    BY  MRS.  TRIMMER. 

4.  Memoir  of  Bob,  The  Spotted  Terrier. 

5.  Keeper's  Travels  in  Search  of  His  Master. 

6.  The  Scottish  Orphans.    BY  LADY  STODDART. 

7.  Never  Wrong ;  or,  the  Young  Disputant ;  &  It  was  only  in  Fun. 

8.  The  life  and  Perambulations  of  a  Mouse. 

9.  The  Son  of  a  Genius.    BY  MRS.  HOFLAND. 

10.  The  Daughter  of  a  Genius.    BY  MRS.  HOFLAND. 

11.  Ellen,  the  Teacher.    BY  MRS.  HOFLAND. 

12.  Theodore ;   or,  The  Crusaders.    BY  MRS.  -HOFLAND. 

13.  Eight  and  Wrong.     BY  the  Author  of  "ALWAYS  HAPPY." 

14.  Harry's  Holiday.     BY  JEFFERYS  TAYLOR. 

15.  Short  Poems  and  Hymns  for  Children. 


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Australian  Babes  in  the  Wood  (The) :  a  True  Story  told  in  Rhyme 

for  the  Young.     50c. 

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BY  INDUSTRY,  &c.     Coloured  Illustrations,  sewed. 
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IMPORTED   BT   E.   P.   DUTTON   AND   CO.  25 


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Headlong  Career  (The)  and  Woeful  Ending  of  Precocious  Piggy. 
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Fancy  wrapper,  4to. 

Johnny  Miller ;  OR  TRUTH  AND  PERSETERANCE.     By  FELIX  WEISS. 

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trated by  C.  H.  BENNETT.  24  Coloured  Engravings,  sewed. 

Peter  Piper.  PRACTICAL  PRINCIPLES  OF  PLAIN  AND  PERFECT  PRO- 
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Plaiting  Pictures.    A  NOVEL  PASTIME  BY  WHICH  CHILDREN  CAN 

CONSTRUCT  AND  RECONSTRUCT  PICTURES  FOR  THEMSELVES.      Four 

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First  Series. — Juvenile  Party — Zoological  Gardens— The  Gleaner. 
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Third  Series. — Blind  Man's  Buff— Children  in  the  "Wood — Snow  Man. 
Fourth  Series. — Grandfather's  Birthday — Gymnasium— Playroom. 
Primrose  Pilgrimage  (The) :   a  Woodland  Story.    By  M.  BETHAM 
EDWARDS.    Illustrated  by  MACQUOID.     Sewed. 

Rhymes  and  Pictures  ABOUT  BREAD,  TEA,  SUGAR,  COTTON,  COALS, 
AND  GOLD.  By  WILLIAM  NEWMAN.  Seventy -two  Illustrations. 

Short  and  Simple  Prayers,  with  Hymns  for  the  Use  of 
Children.  By  the  Author  of  "  Mamma's  Bible  Stories. "  Six- 
teenth Thousand.  Cloth. 

Wnittington  and  his  Cat.     Coloured  Illustrations,  sewed. 

Young  Vocalist  (The).  A  Collection  of  Twelve  Songs,  each  with 
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BARTHOLOMEW.  New  and  Cheaper  Edition. 


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COCK  ROBIN.  I   3.  DAME  TROT  AND  HER  CAT. 

COL-RTSEIP  CF  JENNY  WREN.     |   4.  HOUSE  THAT  JACK  BUILT 

6.    Puss  IH  BOOTS. 


26 


Twenty-five  Cents  each,  Plain  ;  Fifty  Cents  coloured. 

ILLUSTRATED   BY   HARRISON    WEIR  AND   JOHN   GILBERT. 

8.  The  diverting   History    of  John 

Gilpin. 

9.  The  Peacock's  Home  and  Batter- 

fly's  Ball. 

10.  History  of  Joseph. 

11.  History  of  Hoses. 
I.'.  Life  of  our  Saviour. 


1.  British  Animals.  1st  Series. 

2.  British  Animals.  2nd  Series. 

3.  British  Birds. 

4.  Foreign  Animals.  1st  Series. 

5.  Foreign  Animals.  2nd  Series. 
G.  Foreign  Birds. 

7.  The  Farm  and  its  Scenes. 


12.  Miracles  of  Christ. 

His  Name  wag  Hero. 

By  the  same  Author. 

How  I  became  a  Governess.  3rd  Edit.    I    The  Grateful  Sparrow :  a  True  Story. 
My  Pretty  Puss.    With  Frontispiece.    I  Fifth  Edition. 

|    The    Adventures     of    a     Butterfly. 
The  Hare  that  Found  his  Way  Home. 

WOEKS  FOR  DISTEIBUTION. 


A  Woman's  Secret ;  or,  How  TO  MAKE 
HOME  HAPPY.  Thirty-third  Thou- 
sand. 18mo,  price  2  Oc. 

By  the  same  Author,  uniform  in  size 
and  price. 

Woman's  Work;  or,  How  SHE  CAN 
HELP  THE  SICK.  19th  Thousand. 

A  Chapter  of  Accidents;  or,  THE 
MOTHER'S  ASSISTANT  IN  CASES 
OP  BURNS,  SCALDS,  CUTS,  &c. 
Ninth  Thousand . 


Pay  To-day,  Trust  To-morrow;  il- 
lustrating the  Evils  of  the  Tally 
System.  Seventh  Thousand. 

Nursery  Work ;  or,  HANNAH  BAKER'S 
FIRST  PLACE.  Fifth  Thousand. 


The  Cook  and  the  Doctor ;  or,  CHEAP 

RECIPES  AND  USEFUL  REMEDIES. 

Selected  from  the  first  three  books. 

Price  5c. 
Home  Difficulties.     A  Few  "Words  on 

the  Servant  Question.     5c. 
Family  Prayers  for  Cottage  Homes. 

Price  5c. 


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THE   TINY   NATUEAL  HISTOEY    SEEIES. 

OF   STORY   BOOKS    ABOUT    ANIMALS   FOE   LITTLE    EEADEES, 

ALL  PROFUSELY  ILLUSTRATED  BY  THE  BE6T  ARTISTS. 
Especially  adapted  for  Sunday  School  Prizes  and  Rewards.    In  one  way  or 
another,  the  books  either  impart  knowledge  about  Animals  or  inculcate  the 
desirableness  of  treating  them  with  kindness. 


Little  Nellie's  Bird  Cage.    By  Mrs. 

R.  LEE,  Author  of  "  Tne  African 

"Wanderers,"  &e. 
The  Tiny  Menagerie.     By  Mrs.  R. 

LEE,  Author    of   "The  African 

"Wanderers,"  &c. 
The  Dog  Postman.    By  the  Author  of 

"Odd  Stories." 
The  Mischievous  Monkey.     By  the 

Author  of  "  Odd  Stories.'' 
Lily's  Letters  from  the  Farm,     By 

MARY  HOOPER,  Author  of  "  "Ways 

and  Tricks  of  Animals." 
Our  Dog  Prin.      By  MARY  HOOPER, 

Author  of  ""Ways  and  Tricks  of 


Little  Neddie's  Menagerie.    By  Mrs. 

R.  LEE,  Author  of  "The  African 

Wanderers,"  &c. 
Frolicsome   Frisk  and   his  Friends. 

By    the    Author    of    "Trottie's 

Story  Book." 
Wise  Birds  and  Clever  Dogs.    By  the 

Author     of    "  Tuppy,"     "  Tiny 

Stories,"  &c. 
Artful  Pussy.   By  the  Author  of  "  Odd 

Stories,"  &c. 
The  Pet  Pony.     By  the  Author  of 

"Trottie's  Story  Book." 
Bow  Wow  Bobby.    By  the  Author  of 

"Tuppy,"  "Odd "Stories,"  &c. 


Animals. 

The  above  12  vols.  in  Cardboard  Box  with  Picture  Top,  price  §3-60. 


IMPORTED    BY    E.    P.    BUTTON   AND    CO. 


27 


In  12  Parts,  cloth  limp,  fancy  binding,  iriih  Chromo  on  side. 
Twenty-Jive  Cents  each. 

TAKING    TALES. 

Edited  Iff  W.  H.  G.  KINGSTON.      Fully  illustrated. 
N.B. — Each  Tale  is  Illustrated  and  complete  in  itself. 


1.  The  Killer  of  Hillbrook :  A  R«RAL 

TALE. 

2.  Tom    Trueman,   A    SAILOR  IN  A 

MERCHANTMAN . 

3.  Michael  Hale  and  his  Family  in 

Canada. 

4.  John  Armstrong,  THE  SOLDIER. 

5.  Joseph  Bodge,  THE  AUSTRALIAN 

SHEPHERD. 

6.  Life  Underground;  OR  DICK,  THE 

COLLIERY  BOY. 


7.  Life  on  the  Coast ;  OR  THE  LITTLE 

FISHER  GIRL. 

8.  Adventures  of  Two   Orphans   in 

London. 

9.  Early  Days  on  Board  a  Han-of- 

War. 

10.  Walter,  the  Foundling :  A  TALE  OF 

OLDEN  TIKXS. 

11.  The  Tenants  of  Sunnyside  Farm. 

12.  Holmwood :    OR,   THE  NEW  ZEA- 

LAND SETTLER. 


OUE  BOY'S  LITTLE  LIBRARY. 

PICTUEES   AND    BEADING   FOB   LITTLE   FOLK. 

A  Series  of  Twelve  elegant  little  volumes  in  Paper  Boards,  with 
attractive  Covers  in  Chromolithography,  price  18c.  each ;  or  in  cloth 
extra,  price  20e.  each.  The  12  vols.  in  Box  with  Fancy  Lid,  price 

$2-00  and  $2-40.     Every  page  is  Illustrated. 
They  are  especially  suited  for  Sunday  School  Prizes  and  Bewards. 


1.  Papa's  Pretty  Gift  Book. 

2.  Mamma's  Pretty  Gift  Book. 

3.  Neddy's  Picture  Story  Book. 

4.  Stories  for  Play  Time. 

5.  The  Christmas  Gift  Book. 

6.  The  Prize  Picture  Book. 


7.  Little  Tommy's  Story  Book. 

8.  Bright  Picture  Pages. 

9.  My  Little  Boy's  Story  Book. 

10.  What  Santa  Glaus  gave  me. 

11.  Tiny  Stories  for  Tiny  Boys. 

12.  Little  Boy  Blue's  Picture  Book. 


OUE  GERL'S  LITTLE  LIBEARY. 

PICTUBES   AND   BEADING   FOB   LITTLE   FOLK. 

A  Series  of  Twelve  elegant  little  volumes  in  Paper  Boards,  with 
attractive  Covers  in  Chromolithography,  price  18c.  each ;  or  in  cloth 
extra,  price  20c.  each.  The  12  vols.  in  a  Box  with  Fancy  Lid,  price 

$2  and  $2 '40.     Every  page  is  Illustrated. 
They  are  especially  suited  for  Sunday  School  Prizes  and  Rewards. 

1.  Nellie's  Picture  Stories. 

2.  Stories    and    Pictures    for    Little 

Troublesome. 
3    Little  Trotabout's  Picture  Stories. 

4.  Birdie's  Scrap  Book. 

5.  Stories  for  Little  Curly  Locks. 

6.  Bright  Pictures  for  Roguish  Eyes. 


7.  Daisy's  Picture  Album. 

8.  Wee- Wee    Stories   for   Wee-Wee 
Girls. 

9.  Kay's  Little  Story  Book. 

10.  Gipsy's  Favourite  Companion. 

11.  Ky  Own  Story  Book. 

12.  Pretty  Pefs  Gift  Book. 


28  EDUCATIONAL    WORKS 


SPECIAL    SUBJECT    READING    BOOKS. 

HISTORY    AS    A    CLASS    SUBJECT. 

History  Header.  Part  I.  British  History  from  B.C.  55  to  A.D.  1066. 
Arranged  in  Forty  Sections.  By  H.  MAJOR,  B.A.,  B.Sc. 
For  Standard  II.  in  Elementary  Schools,  and  Juniors  in  Public 
and  Private  Schools.  Uniform  with  Mr.  BLAKISTON'S  "  Glimpses 
of  the  Globe."  Cloth,  price  $4 -00. 

Britannia :  a  Collection  of  the  Principal  Passages  in  Latin  Authors 
that  refer  to  this  Island,  with  Vocabulary  and  Notes.  By 
T.  S.  CATZER.  Illustrated  with  a  Map  and  29  Woodcuts. 
Crown  8vo.  Price  $1  -25. 

True  Stories  from  Ancient  History,  chronologically  arranged  from 
the  Creation  of  tho  World  to  the  Death  of  Charlemagne. 
12mo.  $1-50. 

Mrs.  Trimmer's  Concise  History  of  England,  revised  and  brought 
down  to  the  present  Time.  By  Mrs.  MILKER.  With  Portraits 
of  the  Sovereigns.  $1-50. 

Ehymes  of  Royalty :  the  History  of  England  in  Verse,  from  the 
Norman  Conquest  to  the  reign  of  VICTORIA  ;  with  a  summary 
of  the  leading  events  in  each  reign.  Fcap.  8vo,  75c.  cloth. 


GEOGRAPHY. 

Pictorial  Geography,  for  the  Instruction  of  Young  Children. 
Price  60c. ;  mounted  on  rollers,  $1-25. 

Gaul  tier' s  Familiar  Geography.  With  a  concise  Treatise  on  the 
Artificial  Sphere,  and  two  coloured  Maps,  illustrative  of  tho 
principal  Geographical  Terms.  16mo,  $1 -00.  cloth. 

Butler's  Outline  Maps,  and  Key,  or  GEOGRAPHICAL  AND  BIOGRA- 
PHICAL EXERCISES  ;  with  a  Set  of  Coloured  Outline  Maps,  designed 
for  the  use  of  Young  Persons.  By  the  late  WILLIAM  BUTLER. 
Enlarged  by  the  Author's  Son,  J.  0.  BUTLER.  Revised,  $1-75. 


IMPORTED   BT   E.    P.    BUTTON   AND    CO.  29 

SPECIAL     NOTICE. 

J.  R.  BLATTTSTOFS  GEOGRAPHICAL  READING  BOOKS 

have,  after  a  careful  examination  by  experts,  been  accepted  by  the 
School  Boards  for  Birmingham,  Leicester,  Leeds,  Derby,  &c. 

Glimpses  of  the  Globe,  for  Standard  I.  By  J.  R.  BLAKISTON,  M.A., 
New,  Enlarged,  and  Revised  Editions.  A  First  Geographical 
Reading  Book,  in  40  Chapters,  suited  for  80  Lessons.  156  pp.,  40c. 

Glimpses  of  England,  for  Standard  II.    By  J.  R.  BLAKISTON,  M.A. 

New,  Enlarged,  and  Revised  Editions.  A  Geographical  Reading 

Book,  in  40  Chapters,  suited  for  80  Lessons.  156  pp.,  cloth,  40c. 
Glimpses  of  the  British  Empire,  for  Standards  IV.,   V.,  and  VI. 

By  J.  R.  BLAKISTON,    M.A.      A  First   Geographical  Reading 

Book,  in  66  Sections.     Cloth,  60c. 

To  follow  in  due  course, 

Glimpses  of  the  World.  For  the  Second  and  Third  Years'  Reading 
Lessons. 


GRAMMAR,  &c. 

A  Compendiona  Grammar,  AND  PHILOLOGICAL  HAND-BOOK  OF  THB 
ENGLISH  LANGUAGE,  for  the  use  of  Schools  and  Candidates  for 
the  Army  and  Civil  Service  Examinations.  By  J.  G.  COLQU- 
HOUN,  Esq.,  Barrister-at-Law.  Fcap.  8vo.  Cloth  $1'00. 

Darnell,  G.  Grammar  made  Intelligible  to  Children.  Being 
a  Series  of  short  and  simple  Rules,  with  ample  Explanations  of 
Every  Difficulty,  and  copious  Exercises  for  Parsing ;  in  Lan« 
guage  adapted  to  the  comprehension  of  very  Young  Students. 
New  and  Revised  Edition.  Cloth,  40c. 

Darnell,  G.    Introduction  to  English  Grammar.    Price  lOc. 
Being  the  first  32  pages  of  "  Grammar  made  Intelligible." 

Darnell,  T.  Parsing  Simplified :  an  Introduction  and  Companion 
to  all  Grammars;  consisting  of  Short  and  Easy  Rules,  with 
Parsing  Lessons  to  each.  Price  40c. 

Lovechilds,  Mrs.    The  Child's  Grammar.    50th  Edition,  loc.  cloth. 

A  Word  to  the  Wise,  or  HINTS  ON  THE  CURRENT  IMPROPRIETIES 
OP  EXPRESSION  IN  WRITING  AND  SPEAKING.  By  PARRT 
GWTNNE.  16th  Thousand.  20c.  sewed;  or  40c.  cloth,  gilt  edges. 

Harry  Hawkins's  H-Book;  showing  how  he  learned  to  aspirate 

his  H'B-     Eighth  Thousand.     Sewed,  price  20c. 
The  letter  H,  Fast,  Present,  and  Future.    Rules  for  the  Silent 
H,  based  on  Contemporary  Usage,  and  an  Appeal  in  behalf  of 
WH.     By  ALFRED  LEACH.  Cloth  limp,  fcap.  8vo,  40c. 


30  EDUCATIONAL    WOEKS 


GRAMMAR— continued. 

Prince  of  Wales's  Primer  (The).  With  340  Illustrations  by 
J.  GILBERT.  Price  20c. 

Tropical  Beading  Books.  Intended  for  use  in  the  "West  Indies 
and  elsewhere ;  written  at  the  request  of  the  Right  Rev. 
BISHOP  COUKTENAT,  late  Bishop  of  Kingston,  Jamaica.  By 
E.  C.  PHILLIPS.  Profusely  Illustrated.  In  Paper  Boards,  with 
attractive  Wrapper.  Book  I.,  price  15c.  Book  II.,  price  40c. ; 
Book  III. ,  price  40c. 

Darnell,  G.  Short  and  Certain  Road  to  Beading.  Being  a  Series 
EASY  LESSONS  in  which  the  Alphabet  is  so  divided  as  to  enable 
the  Child  to  road  many  pages  of  Familiar  Phrases  before  he  has 
learned  half  the  letters.  Cloth,  20c. ;  or  in  Four  parts,  paper 
covers,  5c.  each. 

Sheet  Lessons.  Being  Extracts  from  tie  above,  printed  in  very 
large,  bold  type.  Price,  for  the  Set  of  Six  Sheets,  20c. ;  or, 
neatly  mounted  on  boards,  §1-00. 


ARITHMETIC    AND  ALGEBRA. 

Darnell,  6.  Arithmetic  made  Intelligible  to  Children.  Being 
a  Series  of  GRADUALLY  ADVANCING  EXERCISES,  intended  to 
employ  the  Reason  rather  than  the  Memory  of  the  Pupil ;  with 
ample  Explanations  of  Every  Difficulty,  in  Language  adapted 
to  the  comprehension  of  very  young  Students.  Cloth,  60c. 

Cayzer,  T.  S.  One  Thousand  Arithmetical  Tests,  or  THE 
EXAMINER'S  ASSISTANT.  Specially  adapted,  by  a  novel  arrange- 
ment of  the  subject,  for  Examination  Purposes,  but  also  suited 
for  general  use  in  Schools.  With  a  complete  set  of  Examples 
and  Models  of  Work.  Price  60c. 

Key  with  Solutions  of  all  the  Examples  in  the  One  Thousand 
Arithmetical  Tests.  $2-00  cloth.  (The  Answers  only  60c.) 

One  Thousand  Algebraical  Tests;  on  the  same  plan.  8vo,  price 
$1-00  cloth. 

ANSWERS  to  the  Algebraical  Tests,  price  $1'00  cloth. 

Theory  and  Practice  of  the  Metric  System  of  Weights  and 
Measures.  By  Prof.  LEONE  LEVI,  F.S.A.,  F.S.S.  Sewed,  40c. 

Essentials  of  Geometry,  Plane  and  Solid  (The),  as  taught  in  Ger- 
many and  France.  By  J.  R.  MORELL.  Numerous  Diagrams. 
75c.  cloth. 


Artizan  Cookery  and  How  to  Teach  it.  By  a  Pupil  of  the 
National  Training  School  for  Cookery,  South  Kensington. 
Sewed,  price  20c. 


IMPORTED    BY    E.    P.    DUTTON   AND    CO.  31 


BTEEDLEWORK 

By  the  Senior  Examiner  of  Needlowork  to  the  School  Board  for 
London. 

Plain  Hints  for  those  who  have  to  Examine  Needlework,  whether 
for  Government  Grants,  Prize  Associations,  or  Local  Managers, 
to  which  is  added  Skeleton  Demonstration  Lessons  to  be  used 
with  the  Demonstration  Frames,  and  a  glossary  of  terms  used 
in  the  Needlework  required  from  the  scholars  in  public  ele- 
mentary schools.  Price  90c. 

NEEDLEWORK    DEMON STRATION    SHEETS 

Exhibit,  by  Diagrams  and  Descriptions,  the  formation  of  Stitches  hi 

Elementary  Needlework.    The  size  of  the  Sheets  is  30  x  22  inches. 

Price  40c.  each;  or,  mounted  on  rollers  and  varnished,  $1'00. 

Whip  Stitch  for  Frills,  acd  Stocking  Web  Stitch 1  Sheet 

Fern  or  Coral  Stitch          ...  1  Sheet        True  Marking  Stitch 1 


Alphabets  for  Marking        ...  6 

Setting  in  Gathers  or  ' '  Stock- 
ing" Knotting  or  Seeding 
(English  Method)  ...  ...  1 

Knots,     Shortening    Knots, 
Slip  Knots  &  Joining  Knots    1 

Stocking  Sheet         1 


Hemming,  Seaming,  and 
Stitching  ...  ...  1 

Button  Hole     1 

Fisherman's  Stitch  for  Braid- 
ing Nets  ...  ...  1 

Herring  Bone 1 

Grafting  Stocking  Material      1 

The  Demonstration  Frame  for  Class  Teaching,  with  Special  Needle 
and  Cord.  Price  complete,  $2'50. 

Plain  Needlework  arranged  in  Six  Standards,  with  Hints  for 
the  Management  of  Classes,  and  Appendix  on  Simultaneous 
Teaching.  Twentieth  Thousand.  Price  20c. 

Plain  Knitting  and  Mending  arranged  in  Six  Standards,  with 
20  Diagrams.  Thirteenth  Thousand.  Price  20c. 

Plain  Cutting  Out  for  Standards  IV.,  V.,  and  VL,  as  now  required 
by  the  Government  Educational  Department.  Adapted  to  the 
principles  of  Elementary  Geometry.  Sixth  Thousand.  Price  40c. 

A  set  of  the  Diagrams  referred  to  in  the  book  may  Lo  had  separately, 
printed  on  stout  paper  and  enclosed  in  an  envelope.     Price  40c. 

*^*  These  works  are  recommended  in  the  published  Code  of  the 
Educational  Department. 


Needlework,  Schedule  III.  Exemplified  and  Illustrated. 
Intended  for  the  use  of  Young  Teachers  and  of  the  Upper 
Standards  in  Elementary  Schools.  By  Mrs.  E.  A.  Corns. 
Cloth  limp,  with  30  Illustrations,  6th  Thousand,  price  40c. 


32  IMPOBTED   BY   E.    P.    DUTTON   AND   CO. 

"  DARNELL'S 
COPY-BOOKS 

FOR  PRIVATE  &  PU  BLIC  SCHOOLS. 

Adapted  to  the  Grades  of  the  New  Educational  Code. 

DARNELL'S  LARGE  POST  COPY-BOOKS, 

16  Nos.,  2Oc.  each. 

The  first  ten  of  •which  have,  on  every  alternate  line,  ap  propriate  and  carefully- 
written  copies  in  Pencil-coloured  Ink.  to  be  first  -written  over  and  then  imitated, 
the  remaining  numbers  having  Black  Head-lines  for  imitation  only,  THE  WHOLE 

GRADUALLY  ADVANCING  FROM  A  SIMPLE  STROKE  TO  A  SUPERIOR  SMALL  HAM). 

DARNELL'S  FOOLSCAP  COPY-BOOKS, 

24  Nos.,  oblong,  lOc.  each,  on  the  same  plan ; 
or,  Superior  Paper,  Marble  Covers,  I2c.  each. 

DARNELL'S  UNIVERSAL  COPY-BOOKS, 

16  Nos.,  5c.  each,  on  the  same  plan. 

ELEMENTARY  FRENCH  AND  GERMAN  WORKS. 
L'Abecetiaire  of  French  Pronunciation :  A  Manual  for  Teachers 

and    Students.      By    G.    LEPRBVOST,    of  Paris,  Professor  of 

Languages.     Crown  8vo.,  cloth,  90o. 
Le  Babillard :  an  Amusing  Introduction  to  the  French  Language. 

By  a  FREXCH  LADY.    Ninth  Edition.     16  Plates.     90c.  cloth. 
Lea  Jeunes  Narrateurs,  ou  PETITS  CONTES  MORAUX.    With  a  Key 

to  the  difficult  Words  and  Phrases.     3rd  Edition.     90c.  cloth. 
Pictorial  French  Grammar  (The).     For  the  use  of  Children.    By 

MARIN  DB  LA  VOTE.    With  80  Illus.    Royal  16mo,  60c.  cloth. 
Rowbotham's  New  and  Easy  Method  of  Learning  the   French 

Genders.     New  Edition.     20c. 
Bellenger' s  French  Word  and  Phrase  Book;  containing  a  select 

"Vocabulary  and  Dialogues.     New  Edition.      Price  40c. 

Der  Schwatzer,  or  THE  PRATTLER.     An  Amusing  Introduction  to 
the  German  Language.    Sixteen  Illustrations.   Price  90c.  cloth. 


GRIFFITH  &  FARRAN, 

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Sole  Agents  for  the  United  States — 

E.   P.   DUTTON  AND   CO., 

713.  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


A     000  054  587     1 


